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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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1/f 1XX7 




EXECUTION OF MORE. 



Young Folks' History 



THE REFORMATION 



By FRED H. ALLEN 



FULLY ILLUSTRATED 




BOSTON 

ESTES AND LAURIAT, PUBLISHERS 

301-305 Washington Street 



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Copyright, 1887, 
By Estes and Lauriat. 



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PREFACE. 



In presenting this little volume to the world, the author 
has not aimed at bringing forward any new or startling 
facts of the story of Protestantism. The ground which he 
has traversed has been often covered by scholars who have 
given it far greater research and more careful investiga- 
tion. It is not for the critical reader that these pages 
are prepared, but to tell plainly and as concisely as possi- 
ble the stoiy of the great protest. 

The publishers in whose hands the book has been 
placed have desired to give it a new christening, and have 
presented it under the name of the Reformation. The 
author wishes to state particularly that, while the great 
features of the Reformation are touched upon, it is not 
properly a history of that great period. It is more prop- 
erly a history of the period, the thoughts and influences 
which led up to the Reformation, and should be so consid- 
ered b}' those who read it. The Reformation as such is 
sufficient in itself for many volumes larger than the pres- 
ent, and could not, by any possibility, be treated in the 
limited pages which are here presented. 

The author wishes also to state that he has made use 
of material which favored his design, gathering so freely 
and from so many sources that to enumerate them all 
would be impossible within the limits of this preface. He 
wishes especially to mention the services of Mr. Emil 



6 Preface. 

Schwab, whose kindly assistance during the author's 
absence in Europe is most heartily appreciated. 

It is well known that the principal part of this work 
appeared in serial form in the Goldeii Rule; and it is 
only at the suggestion of a host of readers that the author 
has dared to consent to its publication in its present 
shape. The work is intended to interest the young in 
phases of history to which very little attention has thus 
far been given, and which are left almost unrecognized on 
the part of the Christian church. Should there be some 
good resulting from its publication, the author wiii be 
content. Fred H. Allen. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Growth of Christianity 11 

II. Condition of the Church 18 

III. Supremacy of the Pope 26 

IV. Usurpation of the Church 36 

V. Birth of Wycliffe 49 

YI. The Mendicant Friars 61 

VII. The Dominicans 69 

VIII. The Common at Bruges 79 

IX. Two Popes 94 

X. Protestantism in Bohemia ........ 117 

XI. Triad and Temptation of Jerome .... 161 

XII. The Hussite Church 177 

XIII. Hussite Wars 186 

XIV. Movements in Protestantism 205 

XV. Reception of a Purer Faith 214 

XVI. Martin Luther 227 

XVII. Controversy with Vicar-General .... 244 

XVIII. Conflict Begun 261 

XIX. Leo X. Alarmed 276 

XX. Leniency of Eome 294 

XXL Death of Maximilian 312 

XXII. Charles V. Emperor 32S 

XXIII. Luther Before the Diet at Worms .... 346 

XXIV. Luther at the Wartburg 357 

XXV. Movements in England 363 

7 



8 Contents. 

XXVI. Political Movements in England . . . 372 

XXVII. PROTESTANTISM IN SWITZERLAND .... 380 

XXVIII. Luther in the Wartburg 396 

XXIX. The Peasant's War 409 

XXX. The Eeformation in France 428 

XXXI. Calvin at Strasburg 476 

XXXII. Calvin and Servetus 494 

XXXIII. Protestantism in the Netherlands . . 502 

XXXIV. The Iconoclasts 532 

XXXV. The Netherlands War . 541 

XXXVI. Protestantism in Various Countries . . 549 

XXXVII. England 552 

XXXVIII. Scotland . . . 561 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

Execution of More Frontispiece. 

City of Constantinople 13 

Constantine 19 

Charlemagne in the Palace 27 

Henry IV. Suing for Forgiveness 31 

Chalemagne in Council 46 

John of Wycliffe 47 

Oxford College 53 

John's Anger after Signing Magna Charta 57 

Magna Charta Island 60 

St. Francis 65 

A Group of Friars 68 

Roman Campagna 73 

Avignon, Residence of the Pope 77 

Wycliffe Entering Lambeth Palace 81 

Altercation between John of Gaunt and the Bishop of London . 85 

Lambeth Palace 89 

Wycliffe and the Monks 95 

Trial of Wycliffe . 101 

Wycliffe before the Convocation at Oxford ....... 105 

Street in Oxford 110 

Friar Bacon's Study, Oxford 114 

Prague 119 

Searching for Protestants 122 

A Call to Arms 127 

Flocking to the Church 133 

Worshipping in a Cave 140 

Birthplace of John Huss 141 

Erfurt 143 

Execution of Huss 153 

Monument of John Huss 155 

A Street Struggle 159 

Jerome Before the Council 162 

Jerome Recanting 167 

Jerome Led to Execution .171 

Jerome in his Dungeon 175 

Hussite Leaders 183 

Hussite Shield 187 

Procopius 191 

Hussite Church 197 

Cathedral at Worms 201 

John Luther Taking his Son Martin to School 215 

Young Luther Singing in the Streets 221 

9 



10 List of Illustrations, 

Erfurt Cathedral 229 

Martin Luther 233 

Luther Preaching in the Wooden Chapel at Wittenberg . . . 239 

Luther's Birthplace „ 243 

Tetzel's Procession 247 

Pope Leo X 259 

Luther Nailing his Thesis to the Church Door 265— 

Luther's Pamphlet 269 

Preaching Out-of-doors . 273 

View of Augsburg 277 

Frederick the Wise 283 

Preaching from Pulpits 287 

Charles V., Emperor of Germany 295 

Arrival of Theologians at Leipsic 301 

View of Mainz 307 

Luther Burning the Pope's Bull 315 

Luther's Home in Frankfort 331 

Luther and his Friends 337 

View in Wittenberg 340 , 

Luther at the Casement 344 

Water-spout on Luther's House 358 

Instruments of Torture 365 

Smithfield 367 

Pisa 369 

Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham 370 

Lord Cobham Protecting a Preacher 373 

JohnFoxe .376 

Hooker 377 

Zwingle and his Friends 383 

Ulrich Zwingle 391 

Zurich 395 

Door of Luther's House , . 397 

Luther's Chair and Table 403 

Zwingle Preaching 411 

Mayence 415 

Wall of Luther's Room, with Ink Spot 421 

Erasmus 425 

First Protestants in France . . . 433 

John Farel 437 

Burning Protestants at Meaux 443 

Calvin 447 

Marguerite of Valois 451 

Reading the Bible 453 

Massacre of the Vaudians 457 

Punishing Protestants (see page 474) 461 

Catherine de Medici 465 

Michael Servetus 469 

Melanchthon 478 

Tower of St. Giles 495 

Murder of Guise 513 

Rogers and Saunders 531 

John Knox's Study 559 

Jenny Geddes 567 



YOUNG PEOPLE'S 

HISTORY OF PROTESTANTISM. 



CHAPTER I. 

GROWTH OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The history of Protestantism is not simply a history 
of the Reformation. It is this and more. It sur- 
rounds and includes it as the greater always includes 
the less. Protestantism began earlier than the Reforma- 
tion, it will continue later. It is not a policy nor a 
church. It has neither hierarchies, armies nor edicts. It 
is simply a principle, existing in the bosom of Christian- 
ity and with omnipotent and voiceless energy it is charged 
with the purification of the church. Christianity is not 
a church, neither is it an empire. It is also a principle 
which, acting upon men, regenerates society by reform- 
ing the hearts of individuals. It leaves man in posses- 
sion of his individuality and confirms him in it. 

You will remember that the growth of Christianity 
was very rapid during the first three centuries ; its spread 
was extensive. The Roman nation had extended its power 
over most of the known world. It dictated laws and 
customs to many provinces, and the simple word "I am 
a Roman," was a passport by which men could travel 
from one end of the kingdom to the other with the dig- 
nity of a citizen. 

The history of the development of the Papacy as an 



12 Young People's History of Protestantism, 

expression of Christianity, is one of the most wonderful in 
the world, but we can barely glance at it here. It is 
hard to imagine a humbler beginning, or a loftier height 
than that to which it eventually climbed. In its arro- 
gance it became corrupt and that corruption became 
offensive to those in whose hearts the light of truth 
burned. There were men whose kindled lamps waxed 
aDd waned and flitted throughout northern Italy and the 
plains of southern France. Along the course of the 
Danube they were sent ; they gleamed upon the Moldau 
and tinted the pale shores of England ; they shed a glory 
upon the heathery hills of Scotland, and they burned 
like a magnificent sun upon the summit of the Alps, 
warming even the glaciers in their frozen bosoms. 
Whence came that light ? What was the principle ? Was 
it purely negative ? It was Protestantism. It was not 
purely negative. 

Protestantism is a creative power. Its plastic influence 
is all-embracing, adjusting itself to the needs of all 
peoples, and defying all forms of untruth. It has be- 
come the founder of free kingdoms and the mother of 
pure churches. Its story is a record of the grandest 
dramas of all time. 

The name is very recent, not more than three hundred 
and fifty years, but the principle is very old. It dates 
from the Diet of Spires, in 1529, when the Lutheran 
princes presented to that august bod} T a Protest against 
the authority of Rome. It created a new world ; disown- 
ing the creed of Rome in order that a purer faith and 
higher law might take its place. The authority, of infal- 
libility gave place to the authority of the Bible. The 
intellect awoke from its sleep ; human society renewed 
its youth, and after a half of a thousand years, resumed 
its march to its high goal. 



Growth of Christianity. 15 

About the beginning of the second century the Script- 
ures were translated into the languages of the Roman na- 
tion and were attested by the heroic zeal of preachers, 
and the fiery death of martyrs. 

Christianity outgrew itself. Its success set limits to 
its growth, and the Emperor Domitian in the year ninety- 
five thinking the whole world was to be lead away by this 
"Christian superstition," rested from his terrible work of 
persecution only in his death. 

It arose from the ashes, left from Domitian's fires ; it 
sprang from the blood-stained arena, to triumph over an 
empire which gloried in having "crushed it. " Digni- 
ties and wealth flowed in upon it ; its enemies failed 
to stay its progress, and in its successes it began to as- 
sume a worldly dignity which little resembled the life 
and character of its founder. 

While in the humble sanctuaries, and amidst the fires 
of pagan persecution it maintained in purity and vigor a 
simple faith, but it became corrupt and feeble in the 
gorgeous temples, and worldly dignities which it gathered 
around it. 

From the fourth century its progress was rapid, but in 
corruption only. The rites and ceremonies ; honors paid to 
relics and the worship of images began to hide the Bible 
from the common people, while the leaders were busily 
engaged in organizing a form of religious government in 
which all guarantee of liberty was withdrawn, and the 
clergy usurped supreme authority over the members of 
what was called the church. Councils assembled to 
enact canons which were put in the place of the law of 
faith. The clergy began to affect titles of dignity and to 
extend their authorit}' to temporal matters. This seemed 
at first innocent enough, and it was quite agreeable to 



1 6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the people to have their course marked out for them, thus 
relieving them of personal responsibility. 

Temporal disputes between church members were car- 
ried to the ministers for settlement, and we are told that 
the Emperor Constantine made a law confirming all such 
decisions, and forbidding their review by civil judges. 
The next fatal step was to model the external 
polity of the church on the plan of a civil government. 
The whole Christian world was divided into four great 
dioceses and over each was set a Patriarch. These men 
governed all the clergy in their domain, and raised their 
chairs to thrones. Where once was a brotherhood 
we now find a hierarchy, with grades of office from the 
Patriarch's chair down to the lowly state of a simple 
teacher. 

The Bible was of course neglected, the zeal of the 
clergy spent itself upon rites and ceremonies, and in con- 
centrating all the powers of the church in its external 
forms and practices. These multiplied until Augustine 
said they were more grievous than the yoke of the Jew- 
ish laws. 

The Bishops of Rome began to appear in costly attire. 
They claimed that as Rome was the seat of the Imperial 
government, the oldest city, and the fountain of life to the 
Roman Empire so should it be the head of the church. 
They spoke with authority to all bishops and demanded 
obedience from all churches. To them were brought dis- 
putes for settlement, and they expected their decisions 
to be final. The Emperor saluted the Chief Bishop of 
Rome as Father ; foreign churches sustained him as judge 
in their disputes ; those who begged for favors extolled 
his piety ; others affected to follow his customs ; and 
it is not surprising that his pride, fed by continual in- 
cense, continued to grow, till at last the humble presby- 



Growth of the Papacy. zy 

ter of Rome, from being a vigilant pastor of a single 
congregation, teaching from house to house, serving the 
Lord with all humility, raised his seat above his equals, 
mounted the throne of the patriarch and exercised lord- 
ship over the heritage of Christ. 

It was a custom among the Eastern churches to fol- 
low the Jews in holding the Easter feast on the day of the 
Jewish passover. The Western churches kept the Sab- 
bath following. Victor, Bishop of Rome, intending to 
end the controversy, proclaimed himself as sole judge, and 
commanded all the churches to observe the feast on the 
same daj r with himself. The churches of the East deny- 
ing his right to obedience declined to conform, upon 
which Victor excommunicated them. By refusing to obey 
a human ordinance they were shut out of the kingdom. 
This was the first peal of the thunder which was so often 
to roll from the seven hills. Thus crept in the early twi- 
light upon the morning of the church, a twilight which 
deepened into a thick darkness and overspread the world 
later. 

The descent of the northern nations through several 
centuries only deepened the darkness. They changed 
their country but not their superstitions. They beheld 
a religion which was served by magnificent cathedrals, 
imposing rites and powerful prelates, presided over by a 
priest in whom they found the reputed sanctity, and 
ghastly authority of their own Druids. These rude war- 
riors who had broken down the throne of the Caesar's, 
knelt in submission before that of Popes. 

The Bible has been withdrawn. In the pulpit, fable 
has usurped the place of truth. The silent eloquence of 
hoi}- lives has ceased, and superstition, like a cloud, has 
quenched the light of the church. 



CHAPTER II. 

CONDITION OF THE CHURCH. 

From the sixth century Christianity was a mongrel sys- 
tem, made up of Pagan rites, northern superstitions with 
Christian traditions and observances. 

The inward power of religion was lost, and men tried 
to supply its place by outward form. Ignorance pre- 
dominated and learning was the exception among the 
clergy. 

The main qualifications of the clerg}^ were that they 
"be able to read well, sing the matins, know the Lord's 
Pra} T er, psalter, and forms of exorcism." Gregory the 
Great was ignorant of Greek, and Baronius tells us that 
''few in the sixth century were skilled in both Latin and 
Greek." It would seem incredible, but we have undoubt- 
ed authority for the statement, that an archbishop of 
Mainz, lighting upon a Bible and looking into it, ex- 
pressed himself thus : "Of a truth I do not know what 
book this is, but I perceive even-thing in it is against us." 

The path downward is always trod with ever acceler- 
ating velocity ; the case of the Church appears no ex- 
ception to the rule. In the early days of Christianity 
lamps were left burning in the subterranean crypts where 
the Church buried her martyred children ; assemblies 
met for worship in church-yards and catacombs, as places 
offering the greatest safety, and the Lord's Supper was cel- 
ebrated in the midst of graves. It became usual to pray 
that the dead might be partakers in the first resurrection, 




CONSTANTINE. 



Co?idition of the Church. 21 

and gradually prayers for the dead, regarded their deliv- 
erance from purgatory, and finally, pra} T ers to the dead, 
regarding their intercession in behalf of the living, came 
by natural sequence. 

Soon the remoteness of the saints could not be toler- 
ated ; men craved a close, tangible relation to the objects 
of their worship, and this the leaders sought to supply. 
By the grand structures which marked the prosperhVv of 
the Church, the gorgeous vestments, and pompous ritual, 
there was a cultivation of the sensuous nature of man 
through the eye and the feelings. Pictured represen- 
tations of that which was beyond the line of vision, be- 
came necessary. Then paintings were added ; images 
disfigured the walls, and corpses polluted the floors and 
vaults of churches. The relics of martyrs were exhum- 
ed, blood and bones and ashes were preserved, and the 
wildest notions of miraculous cures, supernatural preser- 
vations, and unheard of powers ascribed to them. Not 
less true than stinging was the remark that "When the 
Church had golden chalices she had wooden Priests.'' 

The Church had now come to a point from which she 
could not retreat. She must go on and meet the conse- 
quences of her alliances. In the principle of external 
and ritualistic worship, she had become impregnated with 
an element alien to her spirit and antagonistic to her 
truth ; that from which, in fact, all the great systems that 
covered the earth before Christianity had sprung. The prin- 
ciple could not be extirpated. Its course must be run, 
perish, and pass away. Man seemed unable to receive 
the Gospel in all its greatness. Its simplicity appalled 
him. His heart was too narrow to take in the largeness 
of God's gift of eternal life through grace. He could not 
realize that gifts so boundless were without money and 
without price. He thus reasoned that conditions were 



22 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

necessary, and priesthood was quick to present qualifica- 
tions. The early centuries present us a Gospel hardly 
recognizable through the fogs of the Patristic age, as that 
which Christ and the apostles left without a cloud dim- 
ming its radiance. The light waned gradually as men 
journeyed further from its source, it continued, but with 
shorn glory and diminished power. The desire to intro- 
duce the element of merit on the part of men, and the 
element of condition on the side of God, opened the door 
for pagan principles to creep into the church. Worship, 
from being a spontaneous joy, an expression of the soul's 
emotion, came to be a " rite" akin to Jewish formalism 
and Greek mythology. A rite in which couched a certain 
amount of human merit, which could be bought and sold. 
Worship was then transformed into a sacrifice, in which 
expiation and purification had place ; a teaching ministry 
became a sacrificing priesthood. 

But it it is well to note the successive steps which lay 
between the humble pastor, and the mitred king. We have 
noted the decay of doctrine and of individual faith, and 
have hinted that this was fundamental to the rise and final 
assumption of the papacy. The Church forgot what was 
before her and suffered herself to become enveloped by 
what has been called an after growth of Greek philosophy 
and pagan idolatry. As I have intimated, the clergy as- 
sumed the position of a caste, claimed powers superior to 
the lanyy, called themselves mediators between God and 
man, and channels of grace. Thus there arose a class, 
standing between the Divine and the human natures, as- 
suming to mediate between them, but wearing character- 
istics which convince us that the} T were made much "lower 
than the angels." Before the time of Constantine the pol- 
ity of the Church became consolidated, and the empire 
was nominally Christian. In 311, when Constantine as- 



Condition of the Church. 23 

cencled the throne, the Church was a recognized body 
in the State but distinct from it. 

It is manifest that the three hundred fathers who as- 
sembled in council at Nice in 325 had no idea that Rome 
was the recognized head. Later, under Leo the Great, 
a forward step was taken, and by an imperial manifesto 
of Valentinian III. the Bishop of Rome was proclaimed 
as Rector of the whole Church. The mysterious and 
subtle influence which seems indigenous to the soil on 
which his chair was placed, aided powerfully the 
claims of the Roman Bishop. The reverence and awe 
with which men regarded the " Mistress of the World," 
gathered around his person. In an age of factions and 
strifes, the e} T es of the contending parties were naturally 
turned to the pastor on the banks of the Tiber. In giving 
his advice he was careful to register it as an acknowl- 
edgment of his superiority, and on future occasions to 
make it the basis of new and higher claims. 

Constantine built and named after himself a splendid 
city on the Bosphorus, and to it removed the seat of 
Empire. This enhanced the power of the Papal Chair. 
It removed from its side the only one in the nation by 
whom the Pope was eclipsed, and left him the first man 
in the old capitol of the world. The emperor had de- 
parted, but the memory of countless victories and ages 
of dominion still remained. The contest for precedence 
so long waged between the five great patriarchates, An- 
tioch, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Constantinople, and Rome, 
was now restricted to two. The city on the Bosphorus, 
being the home of the emperor, gave to that patriarch-. 
ate special dignit} r , but the city on the Tiber wielded 
a mysterious and potent charm over the hearts of 
men as she does to this day. It was her prestige 
which won the day, and an imperial edict by Phocas in 



24 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

606, decreed the pre-eminence of the Roman Bishop for- 
ever. 

But the time has come when the empire must crumble 
away, and the Seven Hills will no longer dictate laws to 
the world. The wave of barbarianism rolling from the 
North, sweeping away society and crushing thrones, will 
surely shatter the power of the Church. But no, it 
breaks harmlessly at the feet of Rome's bishop. The 
rude vandalism which had remorselessly overturned dyn- 
asties and blotted out great nations»left his power un- 
touched and his seat unshaken. 

It was in the very hour when all stable social orders 
were perishing around him, that the Pope laid broad and 
deep the foundations of a triple empire which might re- 
main immovable for all time. He cast himself upon a 
mightier wave of revolution, which if successful, would 
lift him above an} T dignities an emperor might heap upon 
him. What one gave, another might take away. It did 
not suit the Pope to hold his office by so uncertain a ten- 
ure. He hastened to place his supremac} T where no fu- 
ture decree of emperor or king, no lapse of 3*ears, no 
shock of revolution, could overturn it. He claimed to 
rest it upon a Divine foundation ; to be not merely chief- 
bishop, but the successor of Peter, the prince of Apostles 
and the vicar of Christ. 

With the assertion of this dogma, the Papacy was es- 
sentially completed, but not practically. It had to wait 
the fall development of the vicarship which was not until 
Gregory VII. But here was the embr} T o of that empire 
which bears two swords and wears a triple crown. Here- 
tofore the Fisher of Galilee had sat only in the throne 
of the Caesars. Hereafter he is to sit in the throne of 
God. 

In the eighth century there came a moment of supreme 



Claim of the Popes. 25 

peril to Rome. The victorious Saracens had overrun 
the south of France and threatened to descend into Italy 
and replace the cross with the crescent. The Lombards 
in the north had burst the barriers of the Appenines and 
were brandishing their swords at the gates of Rome. 

In his extremity the Pope turned his e}-es toward 
France. The intrepid Charles Martel came to the res- 
cue and in 732 drove back the Saracens, while Pepin his 
son, who had seized the throne, needed the papal sanc- 
tion to his act of usurpation, so hastened at once against 
the Lombards. When he had vanquished their towns 
he laid the kej^s of their gates on the altar of St. Peter 
and thereby laid the foundation of the Pope's temporal 
sovereignt}^. 

Later still Charlemagne subdued the Lombards and 
on visiting Rome in 774 ceded to the Pope the territory 
of the conquered tribes. "In this way Peter obtained 
his patrimony, the Church her dowry, and the Pope his 
triple crown." 



CHAPTER III. 

SUPREMACY OF THE POPE. 

You will remember that Charlemagne had appeared, 
at the throne of St Peter. The first time he ascends 
the stairs of the Basilica it is to lay the foundation of the 
temporal sovereignity of the popes. A second time he 
presents himself lord of all the nations which form the 
empire of the west, and of Rome itself. He kneels before 
Leo III, who invests with the imperial title, him who 
already possesed the power, and the brow of the son of 
Pepin bears the diadem once worn by the Roman em- 
perors. 

But this was not enough. Some recourse to acts of 
an extraordinary kind became necessary. There appeared 
an astounding document beariug date from the fourth 
century, though lying in darkness until 776. The 
bishop, having become a crowned monarch, was not con- 
tent, he must become a king of kings. Supremacy — 
sole, absolute and unlimited must be his. 

The famous document which appeared nearly four hun- 
dred years after the coronation of Charlemange was 
called the "donation." 

The legend which we are expected to believe informs 
us that Constantine found Sylvester in a monastry on 
Mount Socrate, and having mounted him on a mule 
walked at the bridle rein all the way to Rome and there 
placed Sylvester upon the papal throne. 

But this was only the beginning of princely gifts, as 
the following extract from the deed will show: — 




CHARLEMAGNE IN THE PALACE. 



The Famous Document. 29 

u We attribute to the See of Peter all the dignity, all 
the glory, all the authority of imperial power. We give 
to Sylvester and his successors our palace of the Lateran, 
we give him our crown, our mitre, our diadem, our vest- 
ments, we transfer to him our imperial dignity ; we 
bestow on him in free gift, the city of Rome, and all the 
western cities of Italy. To cede precedence to him we 
divest ourselves of our authority and withdraw from 
Rome, transferring the seat of our empire to Byzantium ; 
inasmuch as it is not proper that an earthly emperor 
should preserve the least authority where God hath estab- 
lished the head of His religion." 

We certainly admire that modesty which withheld this 
document from the world for nearly four hundred years : 
and we also admire the policy of selecting the darkness 
of the eighth century as the fittest time for its publication. 
Unfortunately, to quote it is to destroy it. Constantine 
is made to speak in the vernacular of the eighth century 
while living in the fourth. During more than six hun- 
dred years Rome impressively cited this deed of gift, 
permitted none to question its genuineness, and burned 
those who declined to believe it. 

Then appeared the false decretals of Isidore ; a collection 
of pretended decrees of popes, in which ancient bishops, 
contemporary with Tacitus and Tertullian, were made to 
speak in the barbarous Latin of the ninth century. The 
burden of this compilation was pontificial supremacy. 
It was the clumsiest but most successful of all those 
forgeries which emanated from the "native home of in- 
ventions and falsification of documents." Nicholas 
drew from its stores the means by which to prop up and 
extend the fabric of his power. It became the founda- 
tion of the canon law, and yet the exposure of the fraud 
has not shaken the system. 



jo Yoimg People s History of Protestantism. 

The vices and crimes which were grafted upon the 
successes of the church suspended for a time the effect 
of these decretals. 

The Papacy*, having gained admission to the table of 
kings, celebrated its triumph b}' shameful orgies. "She be- 
came intoxicated, her senses were lost in wild revellings." 
About this time tradition places upon the papal throne 
an abandoned woman ; but let us hide the shame of even 
legendaiy facts. At last Rome became a wild theatre 
of disorder. The Counts of Tuscany, in 1033, placed 
upon the chair of St. Peter a boy of twelve, brought up in 
debauchery ; who continued even upon the pontifical seat 
his shameful and degrading vices. 

The emperors of Germany, assuming the paramount 
right, purged Rome with the sword ; drew the triple 
crown from the mire, and placed it upon the heads of 
men of their own choosing. They created and deposed 
ta will. 

But the power of the popes is maturing slowly and 
silently. It will rise from humiliation and place a heavy 
foot upon the princes of earth. There lacks yet one 
grade of power to complete and crown this stupendous 
institution. Spiritual supremacy- had been achieved in 
tlie seventh century ; temporal sovereignty in the eighth ; 
and now there yet remains only temporal supremacy to 
raise the pope supreme above kings, as he now is above 
peoples ; that achieved, and he holds a jurisdiction which 
arrogates all powers, absorbs all rights, and spurns all 
limits. 

Before terminating its career it will crush beneath its 
iron heel thrones and nations, and masking the ambition 
of Lucifer into a dissimulation as profound, it will vault 
the thrones of monarchs into the seat of God. This is 
its ambition. 




HENRY IV. SUING FOR FORGIVENESS. 



Gregory VII. jj 

In the year 1073 the Papal chair was filled by the great- 
est of all Popes, Gregor3 T VII, the noted Hildebrand, 
He lived in one idea, the founding of a Theocracy, of which 
the pope as vicar of Christ should be the head. The tradi- 
tions of Rome's universal dominion haunted his imagina- 
tion and filled his dreams. Ambitious beyond all who had 
preceded him, he claimed that the reign of the pope was 
but another name for the reign of God. He would eman- 
cipate the churchfrom all subjection to empire. He promul- 
gated the maxims of the decretals, "The Popes name is 
the chief name in the world." "It is lawful for him to de- 
pose emperors." "His decision is to be withstood by 
none but it is lawful for him to annul those of all men.' 

He broke the ancient ties existing between churches 
and their pastors with royal authority, only to bind them 
to his throne at which he chained kings, priests and peo- 
ple alike. The Pope must become a universal mon- 
arch if he would stand in the place of Christ. It was 
Rome that every priest should fear ; in her alone was all 
his hope. All nations should tremble at the thunderbolts 
hurled by this Jupiter by the Tiber. This was the gauge 
which Hildebrand threw at the feet of the kings and 
nations of this world, for no less dominion was embraced 
in this pontifical supremacy. The strife was long and 
often bloody. Yet for a time Hildebrand tasted the lux- 
ury of wielding more than mortal power. It was a 
gleam of light along the Rhine lighting up the awful 
darkness of the tempest he had raised. 

He saw Henry IV. of Germany whom he had smitten 
with excommunication, barefooted and clothed in sack- 
cloth, waiting three days and nights at his castle gates, 
amidst the winter snow drifts, sueing for forgiveness. 

But for a moment did Hildebrand stand upon this 
dazzling height ; the vanquished became the victor and 



24 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Gregoiy died in exile on the promontory of Salerno. But 
to his successors the project was left and b} T arms and 
anathe mas the world was frell-nigh reduced to the sceptre 
of papal authorny. 

For nearly two hundred years the dismal work went 
on. The stricken field, the empty throne, the city sacked, 
and countries bathed in blood ; these are their tearful 
record. 

Rome was again mistress of the world. Kings were 
her vassals. Hilderbrand's idea was fully realized. It 
was the noon of the Papac}' but the midnight of the 
nations. 

Innocent III appointed all Bishops ; summoned to his 
tribunal all causes, from the affairs of kingdoms to pri- 
vate concerns; claimed all nations as his fiefs, allmon- 
archs as his vassals ; launched the curse of Rome 
against all who withstood him, and prohibited the read- 
ing of the H0I3- Scriptures b}~ the people. 

Here is something out of the ordinary course. A succes- 
sion of the ablest worldly rulers which have appeared, 
"they carried their enterprise as much higher above the 
vast schemes of other potentates as their ostensible 
means of achieving it iell below theirs." 

The}' took the Gospel as a basis and built thereon a 
colossal fabric, while eveiy line and letter repudiated and 
condemned the structure. The}' imposed it upon the 
world without an army or a fleet, they bent the necks of 
people and haughty conquerors alike. They persuaded 
monarchs to rally their armies in defence of a power 
which they could hardly but foresee, would crush them ; 
they held the forces of earth and the thunders of 
heaven in their hands, and through successive centuries 
they pressed on without once meeting a serious check or 
repulse. The administration of 130 popes, through 700 



Divinity of the Papacy. jj 

years lost not an inch of conquered ground, and these 
successes have always been interpreted into a proof of the 
divinity of the papacy. 

But has this distinction been fairly won ? 

Rome has always been swimming with the tide . The evils 
and passions of men,which it was her mission to curb she 
has fostered into strength, and has been borne to power 
on the foul current which she herself created. Her path 
has lain amidst battle, blood-shed and confusion. Xever 
wholly false, never quite forgotten of God, yet ministering 
to her own glory, by "edicts of servile councils and forgeries 
of hireling priests, and arms of craven monarchs, and the 
thunderbolts of excommunications. These are the victo- 
ries which constitute her gloiw. 

How unlike the sublime and silent progress of the Gospel 
of peace ; winning its way by the force of its own sweet- 
ness ; healing the wounds of society and hushing the pas- 
sions of men ; it enlightens, purities and blesses where- 
ever it goes. It unsheathes no sword, spills no blood, 
and returns blessings for curses. It will now become 
our task to trace the action of these two principles 
through the ages, noting the victories of the latter under 
the name of Protestantism. 



CHAPTER IV. 

USURPATION OF THE CHURCH. 

During the growth and aggrandisement of the Roman 
Church, there was no time when the voice of protest 
was not raised against its usurpations and its dogmas 
God never left his Gospel without witnesses. When one 
company of true believers yielded to the darkness or 
were slain by violence, another company arose, perhaps 
in some far off land, to bear testimony against the errors 
of Rome, and in behalf of the Gospel which she sought 
to destroy. The earliest and the foremost, lifting the 
white banner of the Gospel, were the Waldenses. 

It seems that there were men more unfettered in mind 
than the rest of the church, inhabiting the Alps of 
Peidmont, the plains of Lombard} 7 , and the southern 
provinces of France, who from their mountain heights, 
protested through a long series of ages against the super- 
stitions of Rome. They contended for the lively hope 
which they had in God through Christ, for regeneration 
by faith, hope, and charity, through the merits of Christ, 
and for the sufficienc}' of his grace and righteousness. 

As early as 555 Pope Pelagius I. writes, "The Bishops 
of Milan do not come to Rome for ordination, which is 
an ancient custom with them." His attempt to subvert 
this "ancient custom" resulted only in a wider estrange- 
ment between Rome and Milan. This independence of 
Milan was not extinguished until 1059. 



Growth of the Papacy. — Ambrose. 3? 

The great Ambrose, the teacher of Augustine, the 
greatest orator which Italy has produced, held aloft in 
Milan a theology of which Christ alone was the foundation ; 
in which justification and remission of sins came only 
by the expiatory sacrifice of the Cross. For many cen- 
turies after his death, which occurred in 397, the evan- 
gelical light cast its brightness over the darkness which 
covered the southern plains Darkness gives relief to 
light, and error necessitates a fuller development and 
clearer definition of truth. It was upon this principle 
that the ninth century produced the most remarkable, 
perhaps, of the great champions who strove to fix lim- 
its to the growing superstitions. When the eloquent 
voice of Ambrose was hushed, the voice of Claude, Arch- 
bishop of Turin was heard, hurling defiance to the stealthy 
approaches of that power, which putting out men's eyes, 
bowed their necks to its } T oke and bent their knees to idols 
He grasped the sword of the spirit, and the battle he so 
courageously waged delayed though it could not prevent 
the fall of his church. It was against the innovation of 
image worship, advocated b} T the Bishop of Eome, that 
Claude fought his greatest battle. He resisted it with all 
the logic of his pen and all the force of his eloquent 
tongue. Where his voice could not reach the sybilline 
leaves were borne on every wind. "Your worship," he 
says, "terminates in the image. G-od commands one thing, 
you do another. He commands us to bear the Cross, not 
to worship it. If we ought to adore the Cross because 
Christ was fastened to it, how many other things are there 
which touched Christ? Why don't }'ou adore mangers, 
and old clothes, because he was laid in one and wore the 
other ? Let them adore asses because he entered Jeru- 
salem riding upon the foal of an ass." 

When Claude died there was no one to take up his 



j8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

mantle. Beyond the Alps inairy churches had sub- 
mitted to the yoke of Rome. Attempts were renewed 
to induce the Bishop of Milan to accept the badge of 
spiritual vassalage to the Pope. The Roman Pontiff 
received the submission of Lombard}' amid such popular 
tumults as showed that the spirit of Claude still lingered 
at the foot of the Alps. But if the plains were con- 
quered, not so the mountains. The Scriptural faith 
burned brightly in the heart of the Alps of Piedmont and 
the Waldensian valleys. 

It is an error to suppose that Christianity did not ex- 
ist before the Reformation except under the Roman 
Catholic form, and that it was not till then that a part of 
the Church assumed the form of Protestantism. What 
we now relate of the churches of Northern Italy settles 
that question. The apostolic character and indepen- 
dence of these churches continues from the earliest his- 
toiy of the Church in Italy to the fifteenth century, and 
in some instances to the present da}'. About thirty 
miles west of Turin there opens before the traveller a 
great mountain portal : this is the entrance to the Wal- 
densian territory. A low hill across the portal serves as 
a natural defence while the stupendous mountains shoot 
up into the clouds. Pasturage and chestnut forests clothe 
their base, eternal snows crown their summits. But to 
one mountain — the Castelluzzo — a higher interest than 
that of beaut}' attaches. It is forever linked with mar- 
tyr memories and borrows a halo from the achievements 
of the past. Often in the days of old was the confessor 
hurled sheer down its awful steep and dashed upon the 
rocks at its foot. And there in one ghastly heap, grow- 
ing bigger and ghastlier as victim after victim was added 
to it, the mangled bodies of pastor and peasant, mother 
and child, commingled and fell to dust. It was the 



The Waldenses. jg 

tragedies, oi which this hoaiy summit holds the record, 
which called forth from Milton the sonnet : 

"Avenge, oh Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold." 
* * * In Thy great book record their groans 
'Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold, 
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 
Mother with infant down the rocks ; their moans 
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
To heaven. 

In the heart of these mountains is situated the school 
of Protestant theology which has existed here since an 
early date. After passing a certain time in school it was 
common for the youth to attend the seminaries of the great 
cities of Lombardy and other places, and thus get a wider 
horizon of thought than these vallej's afforded. They be- 
came expert reasoners, so that priests never cared to en- 
counter Waldensian missionaries. They were evangelistic 
and. wished their truth to be known to all Christendom. 
In going out to teach they saw in prospect no rich rewards, 
onl} T possible martyrdom. They went out two and two, 
often under the guise of pedlars, canying silks and jeweliy 
and other articles not easily purchased save in distant 
marts. They were welcomed as merchants where they 
would have been spurned as missionaries. Cottage and 
castle opened alike to them, but they sold without money 
and without price rarer and more valuable merchandise 
than jewels and silks. Concealed among their wares were 
portions of God's Word to which they sought to call 
attention. 

Other communities arose along the centuries. Among 
them the Paulicians, who occiuyy a place in the East sim- 
ilar to that of the Waldenses in the West. They took 
their rise in Syria in 653, b}* one Constantine an Ar- 



40 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

rninian living near Samasata. Under the Empress Theo- 
dora one hundred thousand Paulicians suffered death 
by the sword, the gibbet, and the flames. Her sanguinary 
fires well nigh consumed the empire of the East. 

In the early part of the thirteenth centuiy a great 
movement was awakened in the south of France. One 
would infer that all opposition to Rome had died out. 
Her power secretly tottering. She is yet to rise higher, 
but decadence has set in. There is a movement which 
by its silence is more to be feared than an arnry with 
banners such an one was entering the minds and hearts of 
the subjects of Rome. All over the fair plains watered 
by the Rhone apostolic men had taught Christianity. 
Poly carp and Irreneus, in days before Rome was, had 
taught in these cities ; hundreds of thousands of martyrs 
had witnessed for Christianity, and now after a thousand 
years their story is not forgotten. The light which had 
gleamed from Milan and Turin had been lost and night 
had deepened here as elsewhere. One Peter "Waldo, a rich 
merchant of Lyons, caused the Scriptures to be written 
out in the vernacular and copies multiplied until books 
could be sent out, each cop}' serving scores and hundreds 
of readers. The Bible was sung by minnesingers. It 
was recited in the discourses of the AValdensian mission- 
aries. Disciples multiplied, congregations were formed, 
various cities and provinces joined the mighty movement. 

The dauntless spirit of Pope Innocent III. was aroused. 
He saw the danger, and sounded the tocsin of persecu- 
tion. Mail clad priests, prelates and bishops, barons 
and counts, ambitious of enlarging their domains, and 
peasants eager to wreak their fanaticism on their neighbors, 
assembled at the Pontiff's summons. Fire and sword 
speedily did the work of extermination. That nothing 
might be lacking Innocent III. set up the tribunal of the 



The Inquisition. 41 

Inquisition, and what escaped the sword of the soldiers 
perished on the racks of St. Dominic. 

The torch of persecution was fairly lighted in the thir- 
teenth century. The baneful fires which had burned 
low since the fall of the Empire, were rekindled by the 
Church. Rome founded her domain upon the dogma of 
persecution. She proclaimed herself to be "Lord of the 
conscience." Then follows a succession of fulminating 
edicts. She pronounced sentence of extinction on the 
Saracens. " The golden crown of Paradise" had been 
won by Crusaders. The clouds of extermination and the 
hopes of Paradise were to hover over the fields of southern 
Europe. The far-seeing e}~e of Innocent detected the 
new life which was springing from the seeds sown by 
preacher and troubadour along the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean, the line of the Pyrenees and southern G-aul. He 
resolved to crush the movement. Cities might be drown- 
ed in blood, art and civilization might perish, and the 
progress of the world rolled back for centuries, still Rome 
must be saved. A series of persecuting edicts paved the 
way for horrible butcheries, and for the hot breath of the 
Inquisition to blast the fairest fields of Europe. Of these 
we cannot speak. They were issued and enforced in or- 
der that the protest raised against the vices of Rome 
might be crushed. 

Twenty years of this cruel work of rooting out the 
seeds of heresy by the Inquisition, followed the massacre 
of a hundred thousand souls. The valle}'S and woods 
were searched for food for the gibbets and stakes, whose 
dismal array covered the face of the country of the Albi- 
genses. Blood never ceased to flow nor flame to devour 
their victims. 

In the year 1229, a council was held at Toulouse. The 
foundations of the Inquisition had already been laid. It 



42 Young People s History of Protestantism. 

yet lacked full authorization and equipment. This coun- 
cil developed and perfected its working. It erected in 
every city a council consisting of one priest and three 
la}Tuen, whose business it was to search every house, cel- 
lars and lurking places, also caves, woods and fields for 
heretics, and to denounce them before bishops, lords and 
bailiffs. Once discovered a short ordeal was the way to 
the stake. 

The Crusades were at an end, but they were continued 
under this later and more dreadful form. Their wildest 
tempests in spirit would find an end, that of the Inqui- 
sition marched on and on, day and night, centuiy after 
centun~, with a regularity that was appalling. It piled 
its dead in ghastly heaps in every country of Europe. 
These tragedies were the deliberate act of the Church of 
Rome. They were planned in solemn council, enunciated 
in dogma, and executed bj^ the authority of the " vicar 
of Christ. These were the marks of her true genius at 
the time of her glory ; these she holds as her rights to- 
day. 

The spirit has not changed, and the "Holy Inquisi- 
tion" is the title b} T which Rome breathes its name. In 
our day all this horror has been reviewed and ratified 
by the Church which enacted them. First by the Syl- 
labus of 1864, and second by the dogma of infallibility 
which lends to all past actions, as well as present move- 
ments, the character of undisputed right and truth. 

Side by side with the growth of external power grew 
and expanded those deep spiritual principles which were 
to move the world. 

Keeping step with the great principle of Papal domi- 
nation, was the great idea of Christianity — the 
idea of grace, of pardon, of amnesty, of the gift of eter- 



Growth of Christianity. 43 

nal life. This supposed that man was alienated from 
God, and unable of himself to return. 

Salvation, when considered as coming from man him- 
self, is the source of all error, the creative principle of 
all abuses. The excesses which grew upon this funda- 
mental error caused the Reformation. This feature 
must therefore become prominent in the history of such 
reform. " By grace are ye saved " are the words of the 
Apostle. What had become of this idea? Had the 
Romish Church preserved it? Was it the inspiring 
cause of faith ? Had that which the Apostle declared to 
be the "gift of God " come now to be given or to be with- 
held at the caprice of man ? 

Let us see what did happen. 

Faith soon came to be a simple act of the understand- 
ing. An assent to authority. Faith being stripped of 
its character, it could not save, and being destitute of 
works, they could not. It became necessary that the 
ground of salvation be outside of man, having its foun- 
dation in works without faith. 

Following this came the idea that man suffering from 
no hereditary taint of sin, having received the power to 
do right, has only to will, in order to perform. This 
idea by placing goodness outside of a man, rather than 
in his heart, necessarily laid great value upon external 
actions and penitential works. The more these were ob- 
served the better a man became ; by them he gained 
heaven, and soon the absurd idea prevailed that a man 
could gain more holiness than he personally needed. Im- 
agining that he could deserve much grace, he saw no means 
of meriting it, save by external acts. Ceremonies there- 
fore were multiplied and rites became complicated. Pen- 
ance was introduced, first as a public expression of re- 
pentance and afterwards as a punishment necessary to 



44 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

secure the forgiveness of God through priestl}- absolu- 
tion. Great importance was attached to marks of re- 
pentance — to tears, fasting and abuse of the body. 

In the eleventh century, voluntary flagellations were 
added to these practices. It soon became a mania among 
young and old. Nobles and peasants, even children five 
years of age, clad in scantiest garments, went in pairs 
b} r tens of thousands through towns and villages, and 
armed with scourges, flogged each other without pit}', 
while the streets re-echoed their cries of agony. 

By degrees penance was extended to every known sin ; 
the most secret, or the most execrable, and by degrees 
ecclesiastical penance became confounded with Christian 
repentance, without which there can be neither justifica- 
tion nor sanctification. 

But even the priests felt the uselessness of these pro- 
ceedings. They proposed, therefore, for certain sums of 
money to remit these penances. In place of seven weeks 
fast, the rich should pay twenty pence, if less wealthy ten, 
and three pence if poor. The Pope soon discovered the 
advantages to be derived from the sale of indulgences, 
and was quick to make use of them. Courageous men 
raised their voices against this traffic, but in vain. It 
was extended and complicated. 

There was little to be expected from the state of the 
Church at the time of the advent of the Reformation. 

No longer did the people of Christendom look to a 
holy and living God for the free gift of eternal life. To 
obtain this they must have recourse to all the means 
which an alarmed conscience and depraved superstition 
could desire. Heaven was crowded with saints who 
acted as mediators, and earth with trading hypocrites 
who had made it a "den of thieves." 

Christ's death was an idle tale told in a drowsy ear. 



Claim of the Pope. 45 

His merits and sacrifice became as the mild fictions of 
Homer. The Virgin Mary became later the Diana of 
Paganism, the only object of worship. Heres}' mediates 
were multiplied by the order of Popes whose interces- 
sion could only be obtained by favored applicants, who 
had deserved well b}~ leaving costly gifts at their earthly 
shrine . 

The Pope "sat as God in the temple of God," and 
could not err. In the Church of All Saints at ^Witten- 
berg was shown a piece of Noah's ark, some soot from 
the fiery furnace, a piece of wood from the cradle of 
Christ, and nineteen thousand other relics. Saint Louis 
of France, erected the Saint Chapelle, in Paris, to con- 
tain a piece of the true Cross, a part of the crown of 
thorns, "and the sword which Baalam wished he had 
when the ass rebuked him." A seller of indulgences 
went about with a feather on his head plucked from the 
wing of St. Michael. The Kingdom of Heaven had dis- 
appeared and in its place was a market of abomina- 
tions. About this time certain men declared that 
on the outer confines of this world, there was 
a fire in which men were purified. The Pope 
declared this to be a tenet of the church and by a 
bull "annexed purgatory to his domain." By indul- 
gences, he could liberate men from this torment. The 
priests depicted in horrible colors the action of this purify- 
ing fire upon all that became its pre}'. The celebrated Tar- 
iff of Indulgences is too scandalous to be repeated, al- 
though it has passed through fifty editions. There was 
a stated price for murder, infanticide, adultery, perjury, 
and the whole catalogue of human sins. In thirteen 
hundred the Pope declared that every hundred years, all 
who visited Eome, should receive a plenary indulgence, 
that is an entire remission of all penalties due to all sins 



4.6 Young People's History of Protestantism, 

which have been or may be committed. In the first 
month following this announcement, two hundred thou- 
sand persons visited the Pope and with princely offerings 
overflowed his. well replenished coffers. The inducement 
was too great. His avarice could not restrain itself, and 
he proclaimed a Jubilee every twent} T -fifth year. For 
the convenience of bu} T ers, and the profit of sellers, in- 
dulgences were now sold from door to door. 

It was time for the Reformer. A light is about to ap- 
pear greater than any which has illuminated the darkness 
of the asres srone before. 




CHARLEMAGNE IN COUNCIL. 




JOHN OF WYCLIFFE. 



CHAPTER V. 

BIRTH OF WTCLIPFE. 

It is the beginning of the fourteenth century and we 
turn our eyes for the first time to the British Isle. In a 
manor house in the north of Yorkshire, was born a child 
who was named John. Here his ancestors had lived 
since the days of the Conquest, and following the manner 
of the times they took their surname from the parish in 
which they lived. Hence the son now born to them was 
Known as John of WyclirTe. Of his boyhood nothing is 
recorded. Few have acted solaige a part, of the personal 
incidents of whose life, almost nothing is known. He 
was a man of noble aspect and commanding attitude. A 
dark, piercing eye and firm set lips mantled ever with a 
sarcastic smile. Not blameless merely but holy was the 
life he lived in an age of unexampled degeneracy. 

About the age of sixteen young Wycliffe was sent to Ox- 
ford College. At the time of his entering Merton, which 
was the oldest hall save one at Oxford, there were not less 
than thirty thousand students. Quick apprehension, a 
penetrating intellect, a retentive memory enabled young 
Wycliffe to progress rapidly in the learning of those days. 
Tc his knowledge of philosophy he added great proficiency 
m the laws of both Church and State. This branch of 
Knowledge stood him in after years in far more stead than 
other and more fashionable sciences. By his studies of 
tne constitution and laws of his county he was fitted to 
take an intelligent part in the great conflict which soon 



JO Youfig People's History of Protestantism. 

arose between the usurpations of the Pope and the rights 
of the Crown of England. But it was not Wycliffe's in- 
tellect nor his education that made him a reformer. It 
was the illumination of his mind and the renewal of his 
heart through the Scriptures which made him next to 
Martin Luther, the greatest of all the Reformers of that 
era. Without this he might have been remembered as a 
theologian of the fourteenth century, but he never would 
have Deen Known as the John Baptist of the Reformation, 
carrying me axe into the wilderness of papal abuses and 
striKing at the roots of the tree of which others were con- 
tent only to lop off here and there a branch. To him 
belongs the honor of raising that great Protest which other 
men and nations shall bear onward till it encircles the 
earth with the glad anthem, "Fallen is every idol, razed 
is every stronghold of darkness and tyranny, and now is 
come salvation and the kingdom of our Lord and nis 
Christ and he shall reign forever." 

In 1365, John of Wycliffe received the appointment 
as head of Canterbury Hall. This was a new college 
founded in Oxford by the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
The arrangment of the founder was, that four monks and 
eight priests should hold the fellowships, which plan result- 
ed in so much rivalry that the monks were dismissed and 
their place supplied by four secular teachers with Wycliffe 
at the head. 

Within a year the Archbishop died and was followed 
by a zealous monk who replaced the regulars, as the 
monks were called, and Wycliffe was deposed. 

Appeal to the Pope failed to reverse this decision, and 
happily gave to the world a man who might otherwise 
have remained within the walls of Oxford. 

It was r*o longer against the monks of Canterbury, 



Condition of the Church. ji 

nor the Primate of England, but against the Pontiff ol 
Christendom thatWycliffe was to battle. 

It will now be necessary for us to turn back the 
pages of England's history for a hundred years. Upon 
the throne sat King John, a vicious, cowardly and des- 
potic monarch. The See of Canterbury was the Epis- 
copal throne of England, and next to the king was the 
primate seated there. Hubert who occupied this seat 
died in 1205, and the junior canons met that very night 
and elected Eeginald to the Archiepiscopal throne be- 
fore midnight, and had him on his way to Eome before 
da}'light hoping to secure the Pope's sanction. 

Naturally John was very indignant, and summoning 
all the monks, elected the Bishop of Norwich, who was 
the king's favorite, and dispatched a delegation to Rome 
for the Pope's approval of this choice. 

The man who filled the chair of Saint Peter was Inno- 
cent III. of whom we have already heard, and he was at 
this time vigorously engaged in subjecting the rights 
and power of princes to the Papal See, and taking into 
his own hands the appointment of all high church offi- 
cials, that through the bishops and priests he might 
as supreme ruler of nations govern even absolute mon- 
archies, which he strove to make dependent upon 
the Vatican. Accordingly he annulled both elections ; 
made his own nomination, and placed on the chair of 
Canterbury, Cardinal Langton. But he did more than 
this. He informed King John that the Pontiff would 
hold this right for all coming time. 

John saw the danger and felt the humiliation. The 
See of Canterbury was the first seat in dignit}- next the 
throne. A foreign power had appointed one to fill that 
seat. Why should it not, when grown more arrogant, 
appoint to the throne itself? It was but one step above it .' 



j2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

The King declared with oaths that the Pope's nominee 
should never sit in that chair. The Pope sent three 
bishops to the King with threats of an interdict. He 
told them that if an interdict was laid upon his kingdom, 
he would tear out the eyes and cut off the noses of all 
the monks he could lay hold of, and send them to Rome 
in that undecorated state, as a present to their master. 
He begun the battle as if he meant to win. He turned 
the canons of Canterbury out of doors, and ordered all 
prelates and abbotts to leave the kingdom. 

The Pontiff smote the land with an interdict, the king 
had offended, the nation mu»t suffer. Think what that 
meant to darkened, superstitious minds. The father 
saw his dying child standing forever outside the gate of 
heaven which had been locked by the Pope's decree. The 
aged pilgrim tottering on the verge of time, the last of 
all his race, was doomed to wander in some doleful re- 
gion outside the gates of happiness. Xot one from that 
unhappy realm lying under Papal ban could cross heav- 
en's threshold. The church doors were closed ; the altar 
lights put out ; the bells ceased to ring. Marriages were 
celebrated in the church-yards, the dead were buried in 
ditches in the open field. Xo one durst rejoice for so 
did men account the Church's ban. John braved this for 
two whole years, and the Pope was as obstinate as he. 
It was now proposed by Innocent to bow the stubborn 
monarch and accordingly he issued the ban of excom- 
munication : deposed him from the throne and absolved 
his subjects from allegiance. To accomplish this, Inno- 
cent instigated the King of France to invade England, 
promising, or rather giving him a full title to the king- 
dom. The prize was tempting. The French monarch 
collected a mighty armament and prepared to cross the 
channel. 



■ jJI1L±0; :4i 




Innocent III. jj 

When John saw the brink on which he stood he was 
filled with terror. In an interview with the Pope!s le- 
gate he submitted unreservedly to the Vatican, "Resign- 
ing England and Ireland to God, to Peter, to Paul, and 
to Pope Innocent and his successors. " He promised to 
hold all these as feudatory of the throne of Rome by the 
annual payment of a thousand marks, failing which he 
forfeited all right to his dominion. 

He ended this remarkable transaction by placing his 
crown at the feet of Pandolf, the Pope's Legate, who 
kicked it about like a worthless bauble, after which the 
craven monarch picked it out of the dust and placed it 
upon his degraded head. This was on the loth of May, 
1213. 

The barons however had more spirit. They would 
not be slaves of the Pope. By their intrepidhVy and pa- 
triotism they wiped off the ineffable disgrace which the 
baseness of their monach had inflicted upon them. In 
the name ot their country, the}* unsheathed their swords, 
and vowed to maintain the ancient liberties of England, 
or die in the attempt. 

Appearing before the King at Oxford in April, 1215, 
they said, " Here is the charter which consecrates the 
liberties conferred by Henry II., and which you have 
solemnly sworn to observe. 

The King stormed, "I will not grant you liberties which 
would make me a slave." But the dauntless barons soon 
taught him to realize that he had become odious with the 
whole nation, and wrung from him the unwilling assent 
to sign the charter. It was not however until the barons 
had set up their banner in London, and the despairing 
King feared all the people would flock to join them. 

It was Monday, the fifteenth day of June, 1215, the 
King came down Irom Windsor Castle to a little island 



j6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

in the Thames, still known as Magna Charta Island or 
Runny-Meade, and the barons came from Staines and 
they met there in the morning sunlight, and the King 
signed the Great Magna Charta. 

This was in effect to tell Innocent that he revoked his 
vow ; freed his nobles and people from vassalage, and 
took back the kingdom to himself. But when he reflected 
on what he had done, his anger knew no bounds. If he 
had broken the yoke of the pontiff, he had put himself in 
unwilling fetters to deal justly with his subjects. He re- 
turned to Oxford where his anger was terrible to behold. 

No less, however, was the ire of Innocent. Magna 
Charta was a political protest against him and his system. 
It inaugurated political ideas, inimical to popedom. It 
was constitutional liberty standing up before papal abso- 
lutism and throwing down the gage of battle to it. 

The divine or evangelical element came first, the politi- 
cal liberty came after. The evangelical principle among 
the Albigenses in the south of France was nearly crushed 
out by the living horrors of the Inquisition, but not until 
its light had touched at least one heart in England — not 
only one but thousands. From the north there was 
arising a power ; the product of this spiritual quick- 
ening, which would not bow before him who from 
his seat upon the seven hills, was absorbing all rights and 
enslaving all nations. 

Innocent went to the grave, and feebler men succeed- 
ed him. The kings of England mounted the throne 
without the oath of fealty to the Pope, although the 
thousand marks a year were sent to the papal treasuiy. 
At last, under Edward II., this ceased and no remons- 
trance followed. 

For a generation this payment was interrupted, when 
in 1365 Pope Urban demanded its renewal under threats 




JOHN'S ANGER AFTER SIGNING MAGNA CHARTA. 



The Parliament. 



59 



of excommunication. But the England of Edward III. 
was not that of King John. 

When England began to resist papal power she began 
to grow in power and wealth. She had fused Norman 
and Saxons into one people ; had formed a language, 
had created a commerce ; fought great battles ; and won 
brilliant victories in the hundred years since the Charta 
was signed. The pontiff was bidden, somewhat gruffry, 
to stand off. These nobles knew but little of theology, 
but a great deal about independence. This was the 
moment chosen by Urban V. to advance his insolent 
demand. 

Edward assembled the Parliament and laying the Pope's 
letter before it, demanded what answer should be re- 
turned. "Give us," said the estates, "a day to think 
over it." They assembled on the morrow, king, lords 
and commons. "Shall England, now becoming mistress 
of the seas, bow at the feet of the Pope?" It is a great 
crisis. The wavering pulses of prophecy and history are 
stilled. We eagerly scan these rough, earnest faces. 
The future of England, yes, and America, though un- 
discovered, hangs on their resolve. The record is full of 
interest. A military baron rises, and laying his hand 
upon his sword-hilt says, "The Kingdom of England was 
won by the sword, and by it has been defended. Let 
the Pope gird on his sword, and come and exact this 
tribute. I am read}' to resist him." So spake they all ; 
prelate, baron, and commoner united in repudiating the 
demand. The decision was unanimous, and behind 
those rough voices may be heard that of John of Wycliffe. 
He had been the teacher of the barons and the commons. 
He had propounded and maintained from his chair at Ox- 
ford and elsewhere, even in Parliament, these truths 
before they were uttered by the estates assembled in the 



60 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

name of the realm. And in the private and public dis- 
cussions where Wycliffe met the challenge of the Pope's 
legates he demonstrated with unanswerable argument 
and invincible power, the falsity of the papal assumption. 
It must never be forgotten that though Edward III. and 
his Parliament occupied the foreground, the real champion 
in this battle was Wycliffe. 







MAGNA CHARTA ISLAND. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE MENDICANT FRIARS. 

It now becomes necessary to consider a second phase 
of the great conflict in which our Reformer is engaged. 
We refer to his contest with the mendicant friars. It 
continued during his battle against the temporal power, 
and in fact on to the end of his life. There were great 
principles involved in this controversy, the discussion 
of which had a marked influence not alone upon the 
mind of Wycliffe, but also upon the minds of all who 
sympathized with his ideas. From questioning the 
mere abuse of the Papal prerogative he veiy naturally 
came to question its legitimacy. Every step forward 
brought him face to face with new questions which sent 
him back to the Scriptures instead of to Papal traditions. 
Every page he read illuminated his inquiring mind and 
forced upon him the conviction that the system of the 
Gospel and the system of the Papacy were irreconcilable. 
Fox, the historian of the martyrs, tells us that "this de- 
cision was not made without many tears and groans." 
"After he had a long time professed divinity in Oxford, 
and perceiving the true doctrine of Christ's Gospel to be 
adulterated and defiled with so many filth}- inventions of 
bishops, sects of monks, and dark errors, and that he 
after long debating and deliberating with himself, could 
no longer suffer or abide the cause, he at the last deter- 
mined with himself to help and to remedy such things as 
he saw to be out of the way. But for as much as he saw 
that this dangerous meddling could not be attempted 



62 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

without great trouble, he thought the matter should be 
done by little and little." 

He first assailed his opponents with logical and meta- 
physical questions which they found it difficult to an- 
swer. Availing himself of their confusion upon minor 
points he pushed them sharply upon the greater ques- 
tions of the Sacraments and other abuses of the Church. 

We have briefly spoken of the rise of the Monastic or- 
ders, it is necessar3 r now to allude to their rapid and 
marvellous diffusion throughout and even beyond the 
limits of Christendom. They built their rude cells 
amidst the tombs of Egypt, upon the African deserts, 
amongst the mountains of Sinai and on the islands of 
the iEgean and Tuscan seas. These places were peo- 
pled with colonies of hermits and anchorites, who fled 
from the world to devote themselves to lives of solitude 
and spiritual meditation The secular spirit and cor- 
ruption of the regular clergy which was engendered by 
the wealth that flowed in upon the Church, made neces- 
sary, it was thought, a new order that might exhibit a 
virtue which the others so signally lacked. These men 
lived in seclusion or gathered in fraternities taking vows 
of poverty, frugality, chastity and obedience, and thought 
by their austerit}- to redeem Christianity from the stain 
which lordly priests and gilded cathedrals had brought 
upon it. " So the world believed and felt itself edified 
by the spectacle." 

There is no doubt that the monastery was for a time, 
the asylum of piety, of purity, and of benevolence, 
which had been banished from the world. 

Glowing pictures have been drawn of the sanetny of 
these monasteries. Peace fled affrighted to their walls 
when violence distracted the outer world. The land 
smiled like a garden around them, when through bar- 



The Mefidicants. 63 

barism or the fire-floods of war the rest of the soil was 
sinking into a desert. Here learning found a home, let- 
ters were cultivated, and the arts of civilized life pur- 
sued. To their gates came the distressed, the halt, and 
the blind, and their misery never failed to find comfort, 
nor their needs succor. 

While the neighboring castle resounded with the clang 
of arms, or the brawl of wassail, the holy chimes of 
the monastery bells, called the penitent to prayer. 

These pictures are so lovely that we would fain 
leave them as the}' are, rejoicing that in the midst 
of war's rude burTettings there were quiet retreats, 
where the din of arms did not drown the voice of song, 
or restrain the muses from visiting the earth. We feel 
it to be almost an offence to religion to doubt their truth, 
and yet, we are a little skeptical. History has few re- 
cords, alas, we know not where to look for one of the 
originals of these enchanting descriptions. Sentiment, 
poetry, and tradition vie with each other in presenting in 
an alluring light, these somewhat spectral elysians, and 
we are compelled to admit that much of it belongs to the 
poetic emotions of a later age. 

History confirms one fact, that at a very early age in 
their existence the monastic orders became to a fearful 
degree corrupt, more so than the world which they had 
forsaken. The famous Abbot of Cluny, says : "Our 
brethren despise God, and have passed all shame." 
"They run here and there, and as kites and vultures fly 
with great swiftness where the smoke of the kitchen is. 
Those that will not do as the rest, the}' mock and treat 
as hypocrites." 

One of the most renowned of these orders was the 
Franciscans whose founder, St. Francis, was born in 
Umbria, in 1182. Certain signs accompanied his birth 



64 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

which foretold his greatness, in spite of which he grew 
up in debauchery. Having robbed his father, he was dis- 
inherited, and soon after he was seized with a malignant 
fever, which spems to have induced a frenzy which never 
left hint. He lay down upon his sick bed a profli- 
gate, he arose from it engrossed with the idea that holi- 
ness and virtue consisted in povert}*. He carried out 
this theorj' to the letter. He gave away all his property ; 
exchanged his clothes with a beggar on the highwa} T ; 
and squalid, emaciated, covered with filth and rags, his 
eye burning with a strange fire he wandered around his 
native town, followed by a crowd of boys who hooted 
and yelled at him as a madman. Being joined b} T seven 
disciples he started for Rome to lay his plans before the 
Pope. 

The tides of prosperity had placed the Pope on the 
highest pinnacle of honor. Not a Pontificate, not a de- 
cade since Hildebrand but had added to the hights 
of that stupendous Babel which the genius of those ages 
was uprearing. Rome was more truly mistress of the 
world than in the days of the Caesars. Her sway went 
deeper into the hearts of nations. Her legates governed 
subject kingdoms, her edicts all the world obe} T ed. Kings 
and suppliant princes waited at her gates ; and her high- 
waj'S were filled with ambassadors and suitors from every 
realm of Christendom. The Pilgrim and devotee from 
distant nations prayed at her shrines. Day and night 
without intermission there flowed through her gates 
which received in turn into worldly coffers the tribute 
of the world. On such pleasurable subjects dwelt the 
thoughts of Innocent III. as Francis with his band of beg- 
gars drew near. 

It was a subject for the painter. The mightiest Pontiff, 
at whose Jove-like nod kings tumbled from their thrones, 



St. Francis. 67 

and thrones crumbled into dust, was pacing to and fro 
beneath the pillared entrance to his palace questioning 
the prospects of new additions to the glory of the Papal 
throne ; when his eye lights upon a strange figure. Be- 
neath his beggar garb, proud mien and wild eye there is 
something which betokens a spirit of dauntless energy. 

"Who and whence art thou?" demanded the pontiff. 

"I am come with a mission, therefore do I enter thy 
presence. Beggar as I am, I beg not ; rather will I be- 
stow alms upon the Popedom. Few kings have power to 
lay at the feet of Rome greater gifts than I, in rags 
have come to bestow." 

Curious to learn his mission Innocent commanded him 
to speak on. 

His scheme seemed so wild, his power to accomplish 
it so pitiable, the Pope bade him begone. 

Silent, disappointed and downcast, he retired. 

But the Pontiff was ill at ease upon his couch that night. 
The beggar with wild, fierce eyes stood before him. In 
a dream a stately palm sprung up at his feet and spread 
out its branches until they covered the heavens. Again ! 
he dreamed that the pillars of the Lateran seemed totter- 
ing and ready to fall, when this beggar from Umbria 
stretched forth his hand and sustained it. 

When the Pope awoke he sent couriers to find this 
wild-eyed man. He convened the Cardinals, and when 
he went forth again ; though clad in rags, he bore Rome's 
commission to arrange and set a working such an Order 
as he had sketched out. 

The subtle enthusiasm with which he left the presence 
of Pope and Cardinals kindled a similar enthusiasm in the 
hearts of others. A dozen men came to his standard. 
This dozen multiplied into hundreds, the hundreds into 
thousands, and before his death, St. Francis saw five 



68 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



thousand of his monks, two from each of twenty-five 
hundred convents, assembled to hold a general chapter 
at his convent in Italy. 

The solitary fanatic had become an army. His disci- 
ples filled all countries. Every object and thought was 
subordinated to their chief; banded together by a vow, 
and all laboring with indefatigable zeal in the service of 
the Church. 

From this Order has sprung five Popes and forty-five 
Cardinals. 




A GROUP OF FRIARS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE DOMINICANS. 

We now come to consider another order of Mendicant 
Friars, called the Dominicans. They received their 
name from Saint Dominic, the founder, who was born 
in Avignon, about 1170. He was cast in a very differ- 
ent mould from Saint Francis ; with an enthusiasm as 
fiery, a zeal as intense ; but with a cool, calculating 
judgment, a firm will, a somewhat stern temper, a great 
knowledge of worldly affairs, he was well fitted to rule 
the strange and remarkable Order of which he was so 
long the head. He had witnessed the rise of heresy in 
the southern provinces of France ; he had seen the futili- 
ty of the magnificently equipped missionaries that Rome 
sent forth to convert heretics : he saw that these mission- 
aries left, wherever they labored, more heretics than 
they found ; mighty dignitaries, followed by sumptuous 
trains of priests and monks too proud to gaze at the 
multitude, went forth on these errands, and Dominic de- 
cided that wealth had not the power over the souls of 
men that simple truth had. Instead of bishops on horses 
he called for monks in wooden shoes and coarse raiment. 
He visited Rome, laid before Innocent III. his plan ; of- 
fering to raise an army that would wander throughout ever}* 
town in Europe in the interests of the Papal See. It 
should be organized after a fashion differing from an} r 
other army that had unfurled its banners, and through its 
instrumentality, he offered to return a better account of 
the subjugation of the heretics than had any other agency 



70 Young People's History of Protestantism, 

which had been sent forth. Their garb was to be plain 
and humble, their habits austere and simple ; with speech 
so plain that the common peasant could understand 
them ; and thus they would go out to win back to the 
faith the heretics who had been seduced therefrom. They 
proposed, furthermore, to live entirely upon alms, and 
cost the papal exchequer nothing for their support. In- 
nocent, however, declined to grant Saint Dominic the com- 
mission. But Pope Honorius was far more complaisant ; 
he saw the utility of such a scheme when governed by a 
man like Saint Dominic. He confirmed the proposed 
order ; and from beginnings equally small with those of 
the Franciscans, the growth of the Dominicans was 
equally great in popularity and numbers. Unlike the 
Franciscans, however, the Dominicans were divided into 
two companies. The business of the first company was 
to preach ; the business of the second company, which 
followed the first, was to assail those whom the former 
could not convert, — the one refuted heresy, the other 
burned the heretic. Through this happy division of 
labor it was thought that the work could be thoroughly 
and successful!}' done. Preachers multiplied with great 
rapidity ; the sound of their voices echoed throughout 
Europe. Their learning was small, but it was made up 
by eloquence, fiery zeal, and intense hatred. Their 
words were listened to by admiring crowds. 

These two orders of men, the Franciscans and the 
Dominicans, did for the papacy prior to the Reformation 
what the Jesuits have done for it in the centuries which 
have followed. If the rise of these orders was unexam- 
pled in its rapidity, they were equally unexampled in the 
rapidity of their decline. The rock on which they split was 
the same as that on which the Church of Rome was 
foundering at the time of their organization, namely. 



Monastic Orders. ji 

riches. But it may be asked how was it possible for the 
possessions of wealth to enter when the door of the mon- 
astery was so effectually barred by vows of poverty ? Not 
as individuals, however, but as corporations, were these 
orders permitted to hold property. The original consti- 
tution remained of course unaltered ; their vows of pov- 
erty still stood unrepealed ; they lived on the alms of the 
faithful ; they wore gowns of coarse cloth, girded at the 
waist with knotted cords, curiously provided with numer- 
ous and capacious pockets, in which little images, conse- 
crated bits of paper, sacred amulets and rosaries were 
mixed with bread and cheese and morsels of flesh col- 
lected by begging ; yet in the midst of these outward signs 
of poverty, they grew richer every day. The cm'iousl}* 
knotted cords with which they girded themselves had 
power to heal the sick, chase away the devil, avoid tempt- 
ation, and serve whatever turn they pleased. Among 
these preachers were men of subtle intellect and refined 
intelligence. Thej^ taught a happ} T distinction between a 
proprietor and a steward. As proprietors they could 
possess nothing ; as stewards they could possess every- 
thing. This ingenious distinction unlocked the^ates of 
their convents, threw back the bar of poverty, and made 
way for a stream of gold to flow in, fed b} T the piety of 
their admirers. They did not become landed proprie- 
tors, but they surpassed all others in the splendor and 
magnificence of their churches, cloisters, convents and 
castles. Edifices which monarchs might have been 
proud to inhabit, arose in all countries for the use of the 
friars. With wealth gained ; indolence, insolence, pol- 
lution of manners, corruption of morals, the abuse of all 
privileges and powers granted by the Papal See increased 
until as Matthew Paris exclaimed relative to its awful 
presage, "that in three hundred years the old monas- 



J2 Young People's Histojy of Protestantism. 

tic orders have not so entirely degenerated as these fra- 
ternities." 

Such was the condition of things when Wycliffe en- 
tered upon his work of reformation. A plague had fal- 
len upon the people ; it was daily spreading and hourly 
intensifying its ravages. The condition of the Mendi- 
cants far exceeded in degradation the sketch which Mat- 
thew Paris has left for us. 

The Dominican friars entered England in 1321. In 
1360 ^Wycliffe began his public opposition to them. 
Forty years before, thirteen men of this order had settled 
in Oxford ; they recruited their ranks so rapidly that the} T 
soon spread throughout the kingdom. Finding themselves 
powerful they attacked the laws and privileges of the Uni- 
versity of Oxford, and claimed independence of jurisdic- 
tion. The first to oppose them was Fitz-Ralph, the chan- 
cellor of Oxford. He declared that under this pestiferous 
canker everything that was good and fair, letters, indus- 
try, obedience and morals, was being blighted. He 
carried his complaints to Avignon, where the popes then 
lived, hoping to reform the crying abuses of his time. 
In vain did the archbishop undertake his long journey ; 
in vain did he urge these complaints before the pontiff 
at Avignon. The Pope knew they were well founded, 
but what did that avail ? The friars were indispensable 
to him ; they had been created by him, they were in a 
sense dependent upon him ; the}*- were his obsequious 
tools ; and, weighed against the services they were render- 
ing the papal throne, the interests of literature and morals 
in Europe were but dust of the balance ; not a finger should 
be lifted to curtail their privileges or check their abuses. 
Fitz-Ralph died in the year 1370, much to the joy of 
the friars, whose enemy he had proved to be ; but their 
rejoicing was of short duration. 



Condition of the Church. 75 

John Wycliffe stood up before these Mendicants to en- 
gage in the conflict which he would maintain until the 
end of his life. He saw deeper into these evils than his 
predecessors had done. He recognized the very exist- 
ence of the order as unscriptural and corrupt, and he 
knew while it existed and had power, nothing but abuse 
could flow from it. Therefore he was not content as his 
predecessors had been with the reformation of the order ; 
he demanded its abolition. It seems that the Pope had, 
moreover, conferred upon them the right of shrieving 
men, and they performed their office with such hearty 
good will and gave terms of absolution upon such easy 
conditions that malefactors of all descriptions flocked to 
them for pardons, and in consequence there was a fright- 
ful increase of immorality and crime. Alms which 
ought to have been given to the needy were devoured by 
them. Not the money only, but the secrets of the na- 
tion did they obtain through the confessional. To obey 
the Pope, to pray to some saint, to give alms to the fri- 
ars, was the sum total of all piety. This was better 
than all fruit of learning or of purity, for it opened the 
gates of Heaven to every one that fulfilled these condi- 
tions. 

Wycliffe saw nothing in the future, provided the Men- 
dicants were to carry on their trade, but the speedy ruin 
of both Church and State. The controversy that Wy- 
cliffe now engaged in was a wholesome one — one of puri- 
fication and cleansing ; it touched to the bottom the 
principles of Christianity ; it compelled men to under- 
stand the teachings of the Gospel. Mendicants went 
throughout England selling the pardons of the Pope, and 
the question was asked, "Can our sins be forgiven with 
little money? Is it with Innocent or with G-od that we 



76 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

are to deal?" Thus the con trovers}' became not a quar- 
rel between men, but the opposition of principles. 

John Wycliffe thus, with the instinct of a true re- 
former, struck at that ghostly principle which served as 
the foundation stone of the Papal kingdom. Luther's 
first blows were in like manner aimed at the same princi- 
ple. He began his career by throwing down the gaunt- 
let to the pardon mongers of Rome. Wycliffe perceived 
that he could not shake into ruin that great fabric of 
spiritual and temporal power otherwise than \>y explod- 
ing the false dogmas on which they were founded. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE COMMON AT BRUGES. 

The futile warfare which the English parliament was 
waging, while it accomplished little practically, was an 
evidence of the growing power of WyclifTe in the nation. 
The treasure of the realm went into the hands of church 
dignitaries, principally French and Italian. The clergy 
was almost entirely alien. The Pope had removed to 
Avignon in France, where the King addressed to him 
another communication, asking that Papal assumption be 
removed or modified. He declined to receive the em- 
bassage at Avignon and appointed a meeting at Bruges, 
then a city of some two hundred thousand inhabitants. 
The result was simply a hollow truce. The power of the 
Pope remained equal to that of the Sovereign. He 
simply abstained from the exercise of his authority. 

WyclifTe, who was a member of that commission, 
returned home in disgust at the time wasted and the result 
gained. But the time had not been lost to him. His 
intercourse with the foreign princes of the Church, 
had not raised his ideas of their character. He gain- 
ed an insight into a circle which would not have readily 
opened to his view in his own country, and when he re- 
turned to England, he proclaimed upon the house-top 
what he before had only spoken in the closet. " Avarice, 
ambition, hypocrisy, these were the gods they worshipped 
in the Roman Curia. These were the virtues which 
adorned the Papal throne." So did WyclifTe proclaim. 
In his public lectures he now spoke of the Pope as "Anti- 



So Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

Christ, the proud and worldly priest of Rome, and the 
most accursed of clippers and purse-knivers." 

Parliament now decided to take more aggressive meas- 
ures. A battle must be fought for their country's inde- 
pendence, and the}' knew of no one but themselves to 
fight it. A document was drawn up, setting forth the 
manifold miseries under which the country was groaning 
from foreign tyranny, and asking that this sourge be re- 
moved. " God has given his sheep to the Pope," say 
they, "to be pastured, and not to be shorn and shaven," 
therefore, "it is good that no Papal collector or proctor 
should remain in England, and that no Englishman, on 
like pain should become such a collector or remain at the 
Court of Rome." 

It was Wyckliffe who breathed this spirit into the 
Commoners of England. It was his earnestness that em- 
boldened them to fight the battle for their rights. His 
graphic and trenchant words are easily distinguished in 
that document. His spirit formed the basis of England's 
independence. 

The Pope stormed with impatient fury when he found 
the gage of battle thrown down in this fashion. He 
caught up the gauntlet with hands hot with fuiy, and 
showed his contempt for England's assertion, by appoint- 
ing an Italian priest to an English church. 

The Parliament stood in the pass of this thermopyalae 
of principle, "We will support the crown against the 
tiara," is their resolution, and they did it. 

This was the second great defeat which Rome sus- 
tained. England had refused her tribute to Urban and 
now she repels pontifical jurisdiction and claims the right 
to rule over her own territory. 

The author of this movement was easy to discover. 
Through many channels he was leavening the nation. 



Innocent III 8j 

The chair of Oxford, his pulpit at Lutterworth, the Par- 
liament whose debates and edicts he inspired and the 
Court whose polic}' he moulded, were each proclaiming 
his position to be a throne of power. The tide was rising. 
His sentiments were being echoed from mouth to mouth, 
and public opinion became a living commentary upon 
them. 

The hierarchy took alarm. They were powerless in 
the hands of this man. They called aloud for help. The 
Pope took up their cause. In his infallible might he 
rose to crush this poor scholar of Oxford. "The whole 
glut of monks and begging friars," says Fox, "were set 
in a rage of madness." "They assailed this good man 
on every side, fighting for their altars and their bellies." 

The man who is at the heart of this movement must be 
struck down. His writings were examined. He had 
taught that the Pope had no more power than an ordinary 
priest to forgive sins, excommunicate and absolve men, 
and that he has received the rights of no temporal lord- 
ship and no supremacy over kings. For similar doc- 
trines, Arnold of Brescia had done expiation amidst the 
flames. Wycliffe must recant or suffer also. Then 
several bulls were despatched from Rome, demanding the 
immediate silence of this heretic. 

One commanded the King to provide against heretics ; 
another to the University of Oxford, denouncing the 
writings and teachings of one whose propositions were 
"detestable and damnable," ordering his apprehension 
and imprisonment. They threw a wolfs hide over the 
reformer and then let loose the war dogs of St. Dominic 
in full cry upon his track. His persecution had already 
begun before these bulls reached England. 

Wycliffe was summoned before the Bishop at St. Paul, 
Feb. 19, 1377, to answer for his teaching. A great 



84 Young People' s History of Protestantism. 

crowd had assembled. Wycliffe, attended by his pow- 
erful friends, Duke of Lancaster, better known as John 
of Gaunt, and Lord Percy, appeared in the crowd. 

Here stood the man whom the Bishop feared, at whose 
utterance the whole Papal world trembled. Before his 
judges he stood erect, his meagre form covered by the 
long black mantle worn by scholars of that day girded at 
the waist, his e}-e clear and piercing, lips firmly closed, and 
his whole appearance betokening great earnestness. 

His friends had fouud great difficulty in getting through 
the crowd, and in forcing a passage something like an 
uproar took place, much to the anno3'ance of the court. 

Lord Perc} T was the first to enter the chapel, "Percy" 
exclaimed Bishop Courtney sharply, evidently offended 
at seeing this simple man so powerfully befriended, "If 
I had known what masteries 3011 would have kept in the 
church, I would have stopped you from coming hither." 

"He shall keep such masteries, though you say nay," 
said John of Gaunt gruffly. 

"Sit down, Wj'cliflfe," said Percy, "sit down. You 
have man} T things to answer to, and have need to repose 
yourself upon a soft seat." 

"He must and shall stand," cried Courtney. "It is 
unreasonable that one on his trial before his tribunal 
should sit." 

"Lord Percy's proposal is but reasonable," said Lan- 
cester. "And as for } T ou, Sir Bishop, who are grown so 
proud and arrogant, I will bring down the pride of not 
you alone, but that of all the prelacy in England " 

To this menace the Bishop made reply, but John of 
Gaunt was heard to mutter, "rather than take such words 
from the bishop he would drag him out of court by the 
hair of his head." 



Death of Edward III. 87 

It is hard to say how this strife would have ended 
had not other parties appeared upon the scene. 

The crowd hearing a noisy altercation going on within, 
burst the barrier in front of the chapel and precipitated 
itself en masse upon the court. 

The clamors of the mob drowned the angry contention 
of the doctor and bishop, and to proceed with the trial 
was out of the question. 

These legates of Popedom had pictured to themselves 
a humble, trembling suppliant standing at their bar. 
Now they found themselves trembling, not only at the 
bar of public opinion, but face to face with an angry, 
excited populace. Like a dangerous spell which recoils 
against the one who uses it, their citation had recoiled 
upon themselves and had created a tempest which they 
were powerless to allay. 

The issue of this affair was favorable to the Reforma- 
tion. The hierarchy had received a check and Wycliffe 
had been brought prominently into notice, his ideas 
better understood and more widely discussed. 

On the 21st of June, 1377, Edward III. died, who had 
reigned with great glory but had outlived his fame. His 
still more renowned son, the Black Prince, had preceded 
him, and the heir to the throne was but eleven years of 
age. But his mother, the dowager Princess of Wales, was 
a woman of spirit, friendly to the sentiments of the Re- 
former, and not afraid to avow it. 

A new Parliament was called, and Wycliffe summoned 
to its councils. His influence was rapidly growing. 
We do not wonder that the Pope singled him out as the 
man to be struck down. 

While the Papal bulls which were to crush him were 
on their way to England, the Parliament was manifesting 
increased confidence in him by submitting the following 



88 Young People's History of Protestantisin. 

question to him: ; ' Whether the Kingdom of England 
might not lawfully, in case of necessity, declare and 
keep back the treasure of the kingdom, for its defence, 
that it be not carried awaj" to foreign and strange na- 
tions, the Pope himself demanding and requiring the 
same under pain of censure." 

Of course this to us appears a plain matter, but had 
we for ages been bearing the fetters of hereditary slav- 
er} T we would find difficult}' in solving such a problem. 
Nothing could better show the thraldom in which our 
fathers were held and the slow and laborious steps by 
which they found their way out of the house of bondage. 

Meanwhile the three bulls of the Pope had arrived. 
That addressed to the king found Edward in his grave. 
The University gave a cold reception to the one address- 
ed to it, onry that addressed to the Bishops received a 
warm welcome. 

Alarm mingled with rage possessed the prelates. The 
University manifested no inclination to silence the migh- 
tiest voice, and extinguish the greatest luminary within 
its walls. 

Parliament recognized the fact that it was chiefly by 
the instrumentalhry of this one man that England had 
been rescued from political vassalage to the Papal See. 
He it was who had put a stop to Papal nominations, 
thereby vindicating the independence of the English 
Church. One after another of his aggressive and bold 
measures Parliament adopted, removing farther each time 
from the dreaded encroachments of papal authority. 
Backed by such interests the humble rector of Lutter- 
worth became a formidable antagonist. He was recog- 
nized not alone in the political sphere — but the reacti- 
onary movements were based upon principles which 
shook the whole fabric of Roman power, and threat- 



Lambeth. 



89 



ened the overthrow of the entire structure, both tempo- 
rally and spiritually. 

This was easy to foresee, and the arrival of the bulls in 
England was hailed with delight, by the hiearchy who 
lost no time in summoning Wycliffe before them. He had 
too man}' friends to be seized and imprisoned as a common 
criminal 5 and the prelates, therefore, observed the cau- 
tion to summon him to appear, thinking that his path 
would lead directly from their tribunal to a dungeon. 




LAMBETH PALACE. 



go Young People 1 s History of Protestantism. 

The Palace of Lambeth where this assembly was held, 
was the cradle of Protestantism in England. It was lusti- 
ly rocked by rude and stormy imes. A concourse far 
greater than that which witnessed their former gathering 
in St. Paul's now assembled giving anything but an as- 
suring augury to the Bishop. 

But John of Gaunt and other sturdy friends no longer 
stood at the Reformer's side. When the contest seemed 
to be shifting from a political to a spiritual one, these 
men fled from the prospect of heresy. But if forsaken 
by the barons, Wycliffe saw on his arrival at the gates 
of Lambeth that the populace was coming to his side, 
and he recognized the power of popular opinion. The 
crowd opened reverently to let him pass and then fol- 
lowed him into the prison chamber of persecution. 

The reading of the citations against him began. Each 
in turn seemed calculated to provoke a tempest about the 
judgment seat and excite the people to the wildest fury. 
The Primate was consulting how the} T might eject or 
silence the people when the courtly form of Lord Clifford 
pressed forward Defore the Count. Dismay and silence 
fell upon the assembly : 

"In the name of the Queen Mother I forbid this court 
to exercise judgment or pass sentence upon John de 
Wycliffe." 

The proceedings were instantly stopped. 

"At the wind of a reed shaken," says an old writer, 
"their speech became soft as oil, to the public loss of 
their own dignity and the damage of the whole church." 

The only calm and self-possessed person in all that as- 
sembly was W} T cliffe. A second time he departed 
unhurt, even from the jaws of danger and perhaps death. 

Looking back on histoiy and looking around in the 
world Wycliffe could see nothing but dissent from his 



March of Events. gi 

doctrines. To his political views, so far as they held the 
Pope's power at ba}^ in England, he had man} T adherents. 
But when he arose to combat the false ideas advanced 
under the spiritual banner of Rome he stood alone. All 
men, all the ages, all the institutions of Christendom 
were against him. He believed that the Bible was on 
his side. To that he clung. It seems that one man and 
truth proved to be a majority in the world at that time. 
He held his place and advanced opinions which kings dare 
not utter. To men of his own time the Reformer's ideas 
seemed extravagant. It was a bold request that the Crown 
take possession of all church property and appoint the 
clergy, but men thought it out, and twenty-four years 
after his death the plan took shape in the form of a peti- 
tion that the lk Crown lake possession of all the propert}^ of 
the church ; that it should appoint fifteen thousand clerg}^ 
for the religious service of the kingdom, assigning an 
annual stipend to each, and that the surplus of ecclesi- 
astical propeily should be devoted to almshouses and 
other state purposes." 

In these events we note the march of England out of 
the house of bondage. There was but one leader to this 
exodus. No Aaron marches at his side. The nation 
follows along the sublime path of its emancipation. 
What a change since the daj^s of King John ! Then 
Innocent III. held his foot upon her neck and England 
bought off with gold his hated interdicts. The crowned 
priest upon the seven hills shut up the nations of Europe 
within the charmed circle of his curse. Thanks to John 
Wy cliff e, England stood up erect, and following his lead 
she marched out of her prison house followed b} r other 
kingdoms in grand procession. We celebrate in song the 
movements of that people, God-led from the slavery of 



Q2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Egypt to the thunder-beaten crags of Sinai's desert. 
But here is a Red Sea opened, here is a reality of which 
the former was but a figure. England taught all nations 
that there was no terror in a papal curse, if there was 
indeed no merc} r in its blessing. The bondage was 
broken- and other nations have rejoiced in following her 
example. 

There is harclty a spectacle more grand in all history, 
a drama more sublime. 

While Wycliffe was trying to break first his own fet- 
ters and then those of the nation God seemed to be 
working for his preservation. His enemies multiplied 
on every hand. The broad shield of John of Gaunt no 
longer sheltered him. Friends fell from him and foes 
fell on him, until he seemed to be left naked and defense- 
less to the rage of his enemies. For a hundredth part 
of what he had already done hundreds of men had done 
expiation in fire. But he contemplated greater and more 
sweeping things. He became a man marked for slaughter. 
The bulls Gregory had placed in the hands of the king, 
the bishops and the hierarchy all commanded his arrest 
and imprisonment as a rank heretic — the short road to 
the stake. Death was about to fall, but it was not on 
Wycliffe. There was a gorgeous bier at the Vatican 
instead of a burning stake at Oxford. 

The Pope returned from Avignon to Rome with the 
haughty expectation of enjoying "much good for many 
years," but it was only to die. 

Death struck a second time, and a bier was borne from 
Westminster, and the Archbishop, who was about to 
summon Wycliffe to his bar of judgment for heresy was 
called himself to the bar of God for judgment for the 
deeds done here in the body. Edward III. is also sum- 
moned, and John of Gaunt becomes regent. So, when 



Death of the Pope. gj 

the toils of the Pope were slowly and steadily closing 
around the Reformer, death stiffened the hand that wove 
them, and the commission which was commanded to try 
and execute him was by Supreme decrees dissolved. 

In still au other way did the death of the Pope give 
Wycliffe and the Reformation a breathing time. 



CHAPTER IX 

TWO POPES. 

On a "bright spring morning in 1378, the Cardinal 
College assembled at the Imperial Palace in Rome to elect 
a successor to the late Pope. The majority of this col- 
lege were Frenchmen and could safely be attributed to 
have a Frenchman's prejudice. The Italian populace, fear- 
ing that the Papal Court would again return to Avignon , 
and the chair be filled b} T one of that nation, they gath- 
ered around the palace and with terrible threats de- 
manded a Roman for their Pope. They vowed that not 
a Cardinal should come out alive unless their demand 
was complied with. An Italian was chosen and the 
mob, instead of receiving the cardinals with stones 
shouted vivas. The end was not yet, however. The 
cardinals, disgusted with the new Pope, escaped from 
Rome and chose a Frenchman for Pope, stating that the 
former election was null on the ground of compulsion. 

This gave rise to the famous schism by which the 
popes for half a century divided and scandalized Chris- 
tendom. 

Which was the true Vicar? Which held the keys of 
St. Peter? By whose blessing were men enabled to 
enter heaven ? Whose curse debarred them forever from 
peace and rest ? These were questions of mighty import 
to men of those days. Germany and England adhered 



Mp i wilf 111 




Wycliffe 1 s Sickness. gj 

to the first elected Pope, while Spain, France and Scot- 
land gave allegiance to the second. 

But for this division Wycliffe would no doubt have 
been struck down. But there was other work demand- 
ing attention than the pursuit of heresy. From Rome 
to Avignon and from Avignon to Rome the bolts flew 
fast and furious. The thunders of war muttered far 
above the head of the Oxford scholar, and the light- 
nings which flashed from the seven hills or towards them, 
disturbed him little. But true to his nature the Reformer 
was not idle. He conceived it to be the best opportu- 
nity to show the world the foolishness of the papal 
assumptions. While the rival popes were hurliug curses 
at each other, and drenching their lands with blood, 
Wycliffe was sowing quick seeds by the peaceful Avon 
and in quiet Oxford. He published a monologue on The 
Schism of the Popes, in which he appealed to the people, 
whether these men, denouncing each other as Anti- 
Christ, were not both speaking the truth. This was fol- 
lowed by a work On the Truth and Meaning of Scripture. 
Here is claimed for the first time the supreme authority 
of the Word oi God and the' 'right of private judgment." 
u This was to discrown the Pope and rock the foundations 
of his kingdom." 

In the last of these pamphlets we have the first hint of 
his purpose to translate the Scriptures. He was now 
getting old. Worn out with harassing cares he fell sick. 
With exultant joy the friars heard their enemy was 
dying, and hastened to his bedside. Surely he would 
be penitent at the evil he had done them. Surely, on 
his departure they would receive his expressions of peni- 
tence. The little crowd of shaven crowns waited at the 
sick man's couch. They spoke him fair at the outset, 
but changing their tone exhorted him to make full con- 



g8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

fession before he died. Patiently he listened till they 
made an end of speaking, and then, raising himself upon 
his pillow and fixing his keen eyes upon them, he said, 
"I shall not die, but live to declare the evil deeds of the 
friars." With terror-stricken haste they rushed from 
his presence to find that in a few days his sickness left 
him and he arose more powerful than ever. 

Although there had been portions of the Scriptures 
translated it had never been fully done. 

The earliest translation from the Latin into Anglo- 
Saxon was by Bede, whose life and works ended together. 
It is related that on the morning of his death there re- 
mained a chapter of John's G-ospel to be finished. 

"Take your pen," said he to his amanuensis ; "quick, 
take your pen and write, " 

"Dear master, "said the scribe "there is one verse yet." 

"Be quick," said Bede. 

It was read in Latin, repeated in Anglo-Saxon, and 
written down. 

"It is finished," said the aman-uensis. 

"Thou hast truly said," responded in soft and grate- 
ful accents the dying man, and expired. 

Wycliffe's idea was to give the whole truth in the ver- 
nacular, so that all England might read it. No one had 
thought of it before, but his heart warmed at the thought 
of following the sun rather than the flickering taper 
lights of popish traditions. 

If he could accomplish this work he would do more 
than anybody had done to place the liberties of the nation 
on a permanent basis, and to raise his country to a proud- 
er height than could a hundred brilliant victories by flood 
and field. 

But he was old and broken. There remained at best 



Translating the Bible. gg 

a decade of years, and this would be broken into by 
death. 

He sat himself down in the quiet little study at Lutter- 
worth. The world was convulsed by the papal thunders 
which filled the heavens and the wars of blood which 
covered the earth, but he wrote on. The thunder was 
far above him, and the lightning scathed him not. 

Verse after verse was wrought into the vernacular, and 
Wycliffe rejoiced that an another arrow of light had 
been formed for the nation's heart ; that the darkness 
which flooded his native land would be freed more and 
more, as ray after ra} r ot truth fell cIowd upon the 
shackles which bound it. 

In four 3 T ears that task was ended. The dawn of 
heaven broke upon England. It was in 1382 that the 
Reformer completed his work. He had placed in the 
hands of the nation a Magna Charta greater than that 
which John placed in the hands of his Barons at Runny- 
mede He saw a pillar of light arising which the sturdj- 
people would follow, marching steadily on until liberty 
was consummated, even though it be a journey of five 
weary centuries. 

The Bible in their mother tongue. The doors of the 
prison-house thrown open. Nothing would hinder them 
from realizing their emancipation. 

The laborious work of publishing was begun. No 
printing press multiplied copies indefinitely. Only by 
the toilsome process of writing was it accomplished. 
But copies were chained up in public places. Persons 
would combine and purchase a copy, or a portion, and 
the whole populace began to read it, rejoicing with ex- 
ceeding great joy. 

Quite different were the feelings of the hierarchy. 
They were filled with consternation. They had hoped 



too Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

the Eeformer would die. They could not expect this 
preacher would. With silent foot, upon the wings of the 
wind the sibylline leaves were traversing, the length and 
breadth of England. Wycliffe must rest ; this preacher 
never sought a pillow. It entered homes. It won 
hearts, and popedom raised a great cr}\ 

The question of the right of th'3 common people to read 
the Bible was raised. 

But if not legal a moral interdict was promulgated 
against it. "It was the work of a heretic," "a sacrileg- 
ious man." "He had committed a crime unknown to all 
the ages of the Church." "He had stolen the sacred 
vessels ; he had fired the House of God ;" he had made 
it possible for man to read his Master's will, concerning 
him 

Wycliffe had his battle to fight alone. No peer, no 
great man. All forsook him and fled. He stood alone. 
With tranquil eye he looked his foes calmly in the face, 
ringing back on his enemies with triumphant fearlessness 
the shafts they hurled at him. 

The end was drawing near. He resolved to press the 
war, and, if possible, to secure the same freedom 
for the souls of his people that he had for their bodies. 
He attacked the dogma of Transubstantiation as the cul- 
minating point of Rome's error. It was the vital part, 
and a blow struck here would shatter the whole, and in 
the spring of 1381, he posted up twelve propositions 
denying the dogma, and challenging all with contrary 
opinions to debate the matter with him. 

Oxford fairly blazed with crimination. All cried 
"heresy," but no one ventured to prove it to that one 
lone old man. 

A council of twelve was summoned. Wycliffe's opin- 
ions are unanimously condemned, and divers heavy pen- 



The Trial ioj 

alties were denounced upon those who taught or held or 
listened to such teaching. 

One da}' he was in his class-room, expounding the 
doctrines of the Eucharist, when a member of this coun- 
cil appeared, holding in his hand a document embodying 
the sentence, which he proceeded to read. It enjoined 
silence on Wycliffe in relation to Transubstantiation, 
under pain of imprisonment. 

"You ought first to have shown me my error," said 
Wycliffe. 

"You can submit to the sentence of the court, or take 
the penalty," replied the monk. 

"I appeal to the King and the Parliament," said the 
Reformer, and resumed his instructions. 

But time must elapse before the meeting of Parlia- 
ment ; meanwhile the Reformer withdrew to Lutterworth. 

The Primate of England convoked a court to try the 
Rector of Lutterworth, which, after three days, unani- 
mously condemned him as heretical on ten propositions 
and in error on sixteen. Copies of this sentence were 
sent to all the Bishops of England warning them against 
the teachings of this pestiferous doctor, and especially to 
Oxford, which was then considered the hot-bed of heresy. 
The chancellor of Oxford did not give a ready ear to 
these denunciations, and the Primate finding himself 
powerless, carried his complaints to young King Richard 
II. The king was gained over. He gave authority "to 
confine in prisons of the State any who should maintain 
the condemned propositions." 

The Reformer was now within their grasp. 

Till now the hierarchy had withstood and . persecuted 
him, but the mailed hand of the king was raised to strike 
him, and the prison doors were opened through which 
he could not pass out alive. 



104 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

But Wj-cliffe did not lose heart. Nay, rather did he 
chose this moment to aim more terrible blows at the 
Papacy. 

Parliament met November 19, 1382. He could not 
prosecute his appeal before the king, inasmuch as the 
prelates had alread}' gained the sword of the state 
against him. "Well, they might burn him to-morrow, 
he lived to-da} T ,and the doors of Parliament stood open," 
he would lay his appeal before it. 

The hierarchy had secretly accused him. He would 
publicly accuse them. He stood before the estates of 
the realm. He demanded a very sweeping measure of 
reform. 

First, that monastic orders should be abolished, and 
these "men released from their unnatural vows, which 
made them the scandal of the Church and the pests of 
society." "Since Christ shed his blood to free his 
Church, I demand its freedom, that every one may leave 
these gloomy walls, and embrace a simple, peaceful life 
under the open vault of heaven." 

Other propositions followed, but the last struck deep- 
est. It touched the doctrine of Transubstantiation. 
He denied the real presence of the body of Christ, under- 
stood in the corporal sense. He unveiled the sophistries 
by which the dogma was upheld and brought men's 
minds back to simple reason and truth. 

His enemies were confounded anew at his bold attack. 
They had waited to see him come forward and bow his 
majestic head, and then they would lead him to the stake 
as a trophy of victory. He comes forward but with no 
apology upon his lips, only to refute their calumnies and 
to repeat his charges, proclaiming in the face of all the 
nation the corruption and tj'ranny of the hierarchy. 

His sentiment found echoes in the hearts of the com- 



The Trial of Wydiffe. 107 

mons, which at once repealed the persecuting edict of the 
King, and thus, the victory still remained with Wycliffe. 

Baffled before the Parliament, the primate now turned 
to the convocation. He could reckon on the subser- 
vience of his court. He assembled a large paiiyy to give 
eclat to the trial. He fondly hoped that a grand victory 
awaited him, and his pride required a host to enjoy with 
him his triumph. The concourse was swelled by the 
officers and dignitaries, and the youth of Oxford. 

There was much in this trial to stir the emotions of the 
Reformer. It was forty years since, a boy of sixteen, 
he entered these halls a student. Here had been wrought 
out the great successes of his youth, the labors of his 
manhood. The most brilliant of his achievements had 
here been witnessed, his name mentioned with honor, 
and his learning and genius formed not a little of the 
glory of the university. But this morning the gates of 
Oxford slowly swung on their hinges to admit him in a 
new character. He is to be tried, perhaps condemned 
and burned outside the walls. It may yet be that the 
same university which has borrowed a lustre from his 
name shall be lighted up with the flames of his martyr- 
dom. 

The indictment turned especially on the dogma of Tran- 
substantiation. 

4 ' Do you affirm or deny that cardinal doctrine of the 
Church ?" inquired the prelate. 

Slowly the Reformer raises his venerable head in the 
august presence and vast assembly. His eye seeks out 
Courtenay, who has been made Archbishop, and after a 
long, searching gaze, he proceeded to reply : 

" What I have before given utterance to I now affirm. 
In this, my last address before any court, I retract noth- 



io8 Young People's History of Protesiantism. 

ing, I modify nothing, I only reiterate and confirm the 
whole teaching of nry life." 

Throughout his address he directly condemns the 
tenets of Transubstantiation, affirming that the bread 
continues bread and there is no other purport save a sac' 
ramental and a spiritual one. 

He defended himself with rare acuteness and a rarer 
courage, and refused to accept even an acquittal from 
such a court. 

" In one of these transformations which it is given only 
to majestic moral natures to effect, he mounts the judg- 
ment seat and places his judges at the bar. Smitten in 
their conscience, they sit chained to their seats, deprived 
of even the power to rise and go awa} r , while the words 
of the bold Reformer were burning arrows in their hearts. 
' You are the heretics/ ciied he, ' who affirm the Sacra- 
ment to be an accident without a subject. Why do you 
propagate such errors? Why? because, like the Priests 
of Baal, 3 t ou wish to sell your masses. With whom think 
you you are contending ? With an old man on the brink 
of the grave ? No ! with truth — truth which is stronger 
than you and will ever curse you.' With these words he 
turned to leave the court. His enemies had no power to 
stop him, and, like his Divine Master, 'he passed through 
the midst of them.' " 

Although confounding his immediate enemies, he 
was still to bear testimony at Rome. The Pope demand- 
ed his presence at the Vatican. Not alone from Ox- 
ford but from the Seven Hills must his testimony go 
forth. But age and its infirmities were upon him, and 
he sat down in his rectory at Lutterworth to write his 
answer. 

This epistle was filled with the keenest satire, yet emi- 
nently Christian and faithful in spirit, and closes by 



Wydiffe before Courtenay at Oxford. iog 

saying, "if in aught I have erred, I am willing to be 
meekly amended, if need be by death." 

There was no vituperation, else had those who re- 
ceived this letter felt only assailed. As it was, they knew 
themselves to be standing at the bar of the Reformer 
who sat as Judge. It is not difficult to imagine the re- 
vengeful, scowling faces, as the} T saw themselves traced 
almost by name in those scathing sentences. With 
tender, truthful hand, Wycliffe draws a portrait of the 
Master they professed to serve, of a servant worthy of 
such a Lord, and holding up the two portraits, asks with 
pertinent severity, "Is this your likeness? Are these 
your works ? Is this the poverty in which you live ? 
This the humility you cultivate ?" With monuments of 
pride on every hand, the gold and glory of the Vatican, 
broad estates and princely revenues, Urban and his Car- 
dinals dare not say, "This is our likeness." Condemned 
they were indeed, but it was the poverty and pur it}' of 
Christ which condemned them. 

The Pope had summoned the Reformer to kneer at his 
throne and recant ; but, instead, the humble English 
minister erected a pulpit in the Vatican, from which lofty 
elevation he proclaimed in the hearing of all the nations 
of Europe " that Rome was Anti-Christ." 

With this letter Wycliffe finished his testimony. He 
might go aside now and rest awhile, and then go in unto 
his everlasting rest. He expected that his death would 
be violent, his chariot a fiery one, his last moment a 
baptism of agony. With king, pope and prelate seek- 
ing to compass his death, what could a lone old man do? 
The circle of hatred was contracting around him day by 
day. It must soon crush him — in a few months — in a 
year at most. He stood alone. He thought not of 
present safety. He had defied the whole hierarchy of 



no 



Young People s History of Protestantism. 



the Church. He never gave ground by a backward 
step, but always pressing on to battle. He would burn, 
but not recant. The time was approaching — nay, had 
come. They sought to take him, but Wycliffe had de- 
parted whither the}' could not follow. 




STREET IN OXFORD. 



It was on the last Sabbatn 
of the year 1384 that Wy- 
cliffe entered the church to 
Lutterworth, where he had 
so long preached, feeling 
that it might be his last ser- 
vice to his dearly loved 
flock. It was the season of 
the Lord's Supper. With pe- 
culiar earnestness he spoke 
to them of his desire to eat 
this supper with his follow- 
ers, and as he was in the 
act of consecrating the Ele- 
ments he was stricken with 
paralysis and fell upon the 
pavement. 

Tenderly the}' bore him 
to the Rectory, where, upon 



Wydiffe's Death. in 

his quiet bed, his life passed peacefully away with the 
dying year, in the afternoon of December 31st. 

No fear now of burning stakes or haughty prelates. 
No terrors in Rome's fiercest curse. He had borne 
these, if need be ; but in tenderness his Master called 
him ere the fatal bolt could be launched by the hands of 
any man. None of his years had been fruitless. The 
moment his work was done, a voice called him to enter 
into its rewards. 

"He stood before the earthly symbols of the Lord's 
Passion, a cloud suddenly descended upon him, and 
when its darkness had passed, it was no more 8 
mere memorial or symbol that he saw, but the Lor*! 
himself in the august splendor of his glorified human i- 
ty." He had gazed long at the sombre side of these 
out-swung portals ; they now closed upon him, and he 
stood within their pearl}' radiance. Blessed transition ! 
Through the gates of an earthly temple he entered that 
morning, and they became at nightfall the vestibule of 
the temple not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
The evening twilight of time met and mingled with the 
morning twilight of eternity, and the deeper evening 
shadows were banished by a brighter sun than that which 
gilds our earthly horizons. 

In Italy, in France and German}' there were forerun- 
ners of all great movements toward purity of doctrine 
and of faith ; but in England Wj'clifle appears as a sort 
of spiritual Melchisedec, without father or mother, having 
no predecessors, from whose accumulated ideas he could 
form his plan of church reform or the spiritualizing of 
religious truth. 

Nor did his mantle fall upon an Elisha who could carry 
on and perpetuate the work begun. He stood alone, a 
solitary Priest of Truth in that dark period of the middle 



112 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ages. And to him it was given to put the Word of God 
into the vernacular of the common people — for the first 
time on earth — and then to disappear, leaving only that 
radiant light flashing forth his example to all mankind. 
For a hundred years his work remained as he had left it. 
Three generations of men passed on and off the 
stage in the darkness which covered both mind and heart 
with spiritual bondage and mental ignorance before 
his successor appeared. 

He stood, and ever will stand apart from all other re- 
formers in this, — that in a dark age he bursts upon the 
world with a light borrowed from no schools nor from 
the church, but from the Bible. He was not an answer 
to a felt want, not a man made to fit the circumstances 
of the times. The people, either before or after him, did 
not want him ; the circumstances he made for himself. 

He preached a reform so sweeping that his best friends 
fled from him ; so comprehensive that no reformer since 
has been able to add one essential principle. They have 
only developed the ideas he expressed. 

Poor fungi of a day 
On trunks of greatness ! To our graves we walk 
In the thick footprints of departed men. 
***** We live on them, 
Peed on their thoughts; each of us strives to speak 
The finest words about them. 

Wycliffe possessed that combination of qualities which 
marks a leader of men. His mind was subtle, clear and 
acute as any schoolman's, yet practical withal as that of 
any pensioner of the nineteenth century. Intuitively he 
penetrated to the roots of the evils which afflicted his 
time, and sagaciously devised the remedies. Where 
there was darkness, he prescribed light ; where there 
was ignorance, he advocated knowledge. 



Results. iij 

He translated the Bible, and set that to preaching its 
own truth in all the homes of England. He trained a 
body of devout teachers, and sent them forth to labors 
which were more successful than he dared to hope. 

The political measures which Wycliffe prepared for 
adoption by the Parliament, show how necessary it was 
to guard the government from the encroachments of 
Papal authority. Wearing a spiritual guise to conceal its 
true character and gain its real object, the Papacy 
preyed upon the substance, and devoured the liberty of the 
nation. A sacerdotal autocracy was threatened. The 
whole of Christendom was fast becoming a kingdom, with 
an aristocracy of shaven crowns and anointed persons, 
to whom the laymen were but hewers of wood and 
drawers of water. 

In the might of his great strength Wycliffe rose up 
and declared, "This shall not be." The proof of his 
consummate statesmanship is in the fact that one after 
another, during the five hundred years which have elapsed 
since he went down to his grave, the nations of Europe 
have adopted the same measures of defence against their 
common enemy. 

The voice from the Seven Hills grows faint and tremu- 
lous among earth's nations. It finds its way barred 
and its echo thrown back by the walls of the Apennines 
and the Pyrenees. If, with less advantage to them- 
selves than England found, in rising up in defence of 
political liberty, other nations have only themselves to 
bame for not resisting it at an earlier day. 

Under Wycliffe, English liberty had its beginnings. 
It was not John's Charta signed at Runymede, but it 
was the moral constitution of the Divine Magna Charta 
which Wycliffe gave her in an open Bible and a plea for 
the right of private judgment that proved to be its foun- 
dation- 



ii4 



Young Peoples Histoi-y of Protestantism, 



The English Bible was written, not upon the page of 
the English Statute Book, but upon the hearts of the 
People* Fear God. Honor the King. Here is summed 
the whole duty of nations, and the prosperity of states. 
It was Wycliffe who laid the basis of this political free- 
dom. 




FKIAK iiACOH 5 STUDY, OXFORD. 

"But above all his other qualities — above his scholas- 
tic genius, his intuitive insight into the working of institu- 
tions, his statesmanship — was his fearless submission to 
the Bible. It was in this that the strength of AVycliffe's 
wisdom lay. It was this that made him a Reformer, 
and that placed him in the front rank of Reformers. 
He held the Bible to contain a perfect revelation of the 
will of God, a full, plain and infallible rule of both what 



Results. 115 

man is to believe and what he is to do ; and turning 
away from all other teachers, from the precedents of the 
thousand years which had gone "before, from all the doc- 
tors and councils of the church, he placed himself upon 
the Word of God, and listened to God's voice speaking 
through the Word, with the docility of a child." 

He turned the eyes of men from the authority 
of Church, Popes and Councils to the inspired oracles 
of God. By resisting authority to the Church — that is, 
by putting her under the authority o# a Divine Will, he 
restored her liberty also. The two prime conditions of 
a church are Authority and Liberty ; an infallible 
guide, and freedom to follow it. One cannot exist with- 
out the other. Liberty is freedom under law ; without 
law there can be no such thing as liberty. Liberty with- 
out order becomes anarchy. Where there is not obedi- 
ence to God, there is always the usurpation of man. 
Authority and freedom live and die together. 

You must remember that in engaging in this funda- 
mental controvers}^ Wycliffe was obliged to lay all the 
foundations with his own hands. It was impossible for 
him to do this without a combination of rare qualities 
fused in the alembic of a strong spiritual character. He 
was singularly pure. Free from all the vices of the age, 
they felfrom him, leaving his garments white. As a pas- 
tor he was faithful, sj-mpathetic and loving ; as a pat- 
riot he was intelligent, incorruptible and fearless. As a 
reformer, he never hesitated or moved backward. His 
views enlarged. His feet were ever climbing. Hisej'es. 
continually sought wider ranges of vision. His sermons 
were clear, terse, and expressed in vigorous rudimentary 
English, fresh as a breath of the morning. Looking back- 
ward to those who were before him, for one to measure 
him by, we find none. Had he lived two centuries later, 



Ii6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

he would doubtless have been to England what Luther 
was to Germany and Knox to Scotland ; bat standing 
where he did, he was, in a sense, greater than all others, 
because their forerunner. 

Standing before the Bible, Wycliffe forgot the teach- 
ings of man. He led the minds of his followers back 
from the scholasticism of a hundred years to stand beside 
the cradle of the Christian's faith. Systems had been 
built up, dogmas invented. Bulls of Popes had been 
piled like Ossa ur^on Pelion. Wycliffe dug through 
all these, and rested his work upon the first foundations 
laid by Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself be- 
ing the chief Corner-stone. Constantly he held up to 
view the fact that the preaching of the Word of God is 
the instrumentality by which men are converted and the 
church edified. It was not, nor is it now, possible to 
make the ceremonies — which are but the machinery of 
the church — take the place of that vital truth flashed 
from the pages of God's Word by the subtle fire of a 
soul and voice touched by its spirit and power. 

Wycliffe is at rest, and there is night in England. 
The people sink back into the darkness, and only here 
and there one is found with outstretched arms seeking 
to touch His garment who sitteth upon the Throne, 
which the} T do through the flame shroud of martyrdom. 
There is silence in the halls of learning ; science and 
literature are forgotten ; nothing is heard but the tread 
of armed feet, nothing seen but blood. 



CHAPTER X. 

PROTESTANTISM IN BOHEMIA. 

We have witnessed the turning of the soil on one of 
the great fields of Christendom ; have noted the convul- 
sions, mental and moral, which the unfettering of men's 
minds led to ; the wars which convulsed France ; the 
civil feuds which marked the English attempts at an exodus 
from Papal bondage, — and now the movement seems to 
halt. The fourteenth century is ended. A new one be- 
gins, and the scenes shift to more eastern lands. In 
Bohemia a lamp has been lighted whose rays struggle 
out into the darkness, only to make its blackness more 
visible. 

When the Russian devotee stands at the end of his 
painful pilgrimage, beside the altar of the Holy Sepul- 
chre at Jerusalem, he counts it his dearest boon to catch 
from the eternal fire which burns there, a spark, by which 
he ignites a taper, which with incredible toil he bears, 
still burning, to his hearthstone. This he watches with 
unwearied fidelity, never suffering it to go out, but keeping 
it ever replenished, and rejoices in living ever in the rays 
of sacred fire brought from the tomb of Christ. So we 
read that a pilgrim bore, in the year 1400, afire destined 
to illuminate some pages of Bohemian history, and to 



n8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

kindle anew the fires of martyrdom on the banks of the 
Moldau. 

Jerome of Prague returned from England to his native 
city in that year, bringing with him many of the writings 
of Wycliffe. These books opened the eyes of one John 
Huss, as he read and re-read them with his followers. 
Such is the chain which binds Bohemia to England. We 
said in the beginning that Protestantism was a principle, 
not a church ; an idea, not a ritual. Therefore, states 
could not bend it, oceans stop it, nor varied languages 
confound it. It had a voice which it could utter amidst 
the mountains of the Waldensees, by the statefy flowing 
Danube, or quiet Avon. Every tongue has enrolled its 
disciples, and every nation in Christendom, has heard 
and understood the voice of Wycliffe. 

The first drama had ended, only to be re-enacted in 
Bohemia before it began its brilliant course in Germany. 
There was but a short career, but so prolific in tragic in- 
cident, so rich in the development of heroic character, 
as to deserve more than a passing notice. "It was the 
presage of the grandeur of elevation to which human 
character should attain, when Protestantism as a princi- 
ple of life touched the hearts of nations as well as men. 
It transformed a people into a nation of heroes," while 
all Europe, and later the whole world, gazed in admira- 
tion of its wisdom in council and its prowess in the 
field. 

When Christianity entered Bohemia we cannot tell. 
Doubtless it followed in the wake of the armies of Char- 
lemagne, and the land partook of that nominal conversion 
which is aptly characterized as baptized heathenism. 

In 1079, Gregory VII. issued a bull forbidding the use 
of the Oriental ritual, and the reading of the Scriptures 
in the vernacular, on the ground that, "After long study 



The Movement in Bohemia. 121 

of the Word of God, he had come to see that it was 
pleasing to the Omnipotent that His worship should be 
celebrated in an unknown language, and that many evils 
and heresies had arisen from not observing this rule." 

Thus even r church was in effect closed, so far as relig- 
ious instruction was concerned. But the hot breath of 
this Papal monarch, in scourging the Waldensees of 
Italy, blew them over the Alps, carrying their message 
of good will to every country of Europe. Thus where 
this man scorched the nations, thousands of the perse- 
cuted saints became as the dew or the gentle rain to 
refresh them. 

All great revolutions are preceded by forerunners. 
Great events cast shadows before, and their advent is 
sensibly felt. Throughout all nations of Christendom, at 
the beginning of the fifteenth century, there were men 
foretelling the approach of great moral and spiritual 
changes. 

Bohemia had its pioneers of truth, who more or less 
distinctly prophesied concerning the advent of a greater 
than they. 

One of these was a man of rare learning, named John 
Milicius, Canon of the Cathedral Church of Prague. He 
was an eloquent preacher, and his holy life bore faithful 
testimony to the truth. A vast throng looked up to 
him whenever he entered the pulpit, and like all great 
men he used the native tongue of his people. With 
scathing words he lashed the abuses of the clergy, and 
finally undertook to plead his cause at Rome, whither he 
went in fasting and in tears ; but, alas ! the scandals at 
home paled into comparative virtues amidst the abomina- 
tions of the Pontifical city ; and " shocked at what he 
saw at Rome he wrote over the door of one of the Car- 
dinals, 'Anti-Christ is now come and sitteth in the 
church,' and departed." 



122 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



On reaching home he found that a bull from Gregory 
had preceded him, ordering the arrest of "the bold priest 
who had affronted the Pope in his own capital and on 
the very threshold of the Vatican." 

But prisons were not strong enough to hold him, and 
rather than withstand a popular outbreak the archbishop 
set him at liberty. 




SEARCHING FOR PROTESTANTS. 

Another of these prophets 
was Conrad Steikna, of great 
attainments and such eloquence 
that he was obliged to preach in 
the open air, as no church could accommodate the 
crowds which gathered to listen to him. 

He was succeeded by Janorius, who, we are told, not 
only thundered in the pulpit of the cathedral, but trav- 
ersed the country, preaching everywhere against the cor- 
ruptions and iniquities of the times. 



Early Trials. J2J 

This Rome could not endure, and persecutions were 
commenced against him and all confessors. 

The Communion could not be celebrated openly, and 
disciples resorted to the mountains, caves and wild ravines. 
It fared hard indeed with those who were discovered 
by the armed bands sent upon their track. 

Those who could not escape were put to death ; and in. 
1376 the stake was decreed against all who left the es- 
tablished rites of the church. This was the condition of 
things during the boyhood of Huss, up to the time he 
began his work. 

John Huss was born on the 6th of July, 1373, in the 
market town of Hussenitz, on the edge of the Bohemian 
forest. His father died when he was 3-et very young, and 
at an early age his mother placed him in the University 
of Prague. 

The excellent talents of the young student were sharp- 
ened and expanded until his career in the University 
became exceedingl}- brilliant. He had a pale, thin face, 
which bore an expression of intense earnestness. He 
seemed to be overmastered hy a passion for learning, } T et 
with a singular afTabilit} T of address, he won all who came 
in contact with him. 

He received the degree of Bachelor of Theology, and 
three years later, in 1396, that of Bachelor of Arts. 

He entered the church, and b}- his sincerity and elo- 
quence quickly won distinction, and was appointed con- 
fessor to the queen of Bavaria. A zealous Catholic, a 
devout Papist, he seemed the last man to imbibe the ideas 
of the English reformer. 

In 1402, Huss was appointed preacher to the famous 
Bethlehem Chapel, which was founded by a company of 
gentlemen who laid great stress upon the preaching of 
the gospel in the mother tongue. 



124 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

The sermons of Huss ' w formed an epoch in Prague." 
All the vices imaginable were unblushingly enjoyed by 
nobles, priests and people. In this midst " Huss stood 
up like an incarnate conscience." He excited clamor, 
but the powerful influence of the Queen shielded him 
from all harm. 

He now became acquainted with the theological writings 
of Wycliffe, which he eagerly studied ; but while he ad- 
mired the learning and piety of the author, he shrank in- 
stinctively from the sweeping reforms he promulgated. 

He had the wish to break with the Church of Rome. 
He believed, as did others, that Reform was an idea con- 
sistent with its principles, but like all others, even to the 
present da}', he learned that, like oil and water, there 
was an eternal antagonism between them. 

The University had given Prague an important place, 
calling to it teachers and students from all nations. 
Among them were two theologians from England, James 
and Conrad of Canterbury. They were graduates of Ox- 
ford, and had visited the banks of the Moldau to spread 
the gospel ideas the} 7 had learned in England. They 
engaged in public discussions, and threw down the gage 
of battle on the subject of the Primacy of the Pope. 
These dicusssions were at once stopped by the authori- 
ties, inasmuch as the doctrines enunciated were fatal to 
the papal claims. 

The reformers were not so easily silenced, however, 
and resorted to their limited knowledge of art to express 
what they were forbidden to do in words. In a corridor of 
the house where the} 7 lived, by the host's permission, 
they drew rudely upon the walls two pictures. Upon 
one side the humble entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem 
"upon a colt the foal of an ass." Upon the other, the 
royal magnificence of a Popish cavalcade. The purple 



The Picture Argument. 125 

crown, the gorgeous robe, the richly caparisoned horse, 
the trumpeters announcing his approach, a brilliant crowd 
of cardinals and bishops surrounding him ; these offered 
a strong contrast to the other side of the corridor. 

You will remember that printing was not known ; that 
preaching had nearly fallen into the same state, so that 
this became a far more powerful sermon than it could 
have been later on. Thousands came to gaze, and went 
away to meditate upon the pride and haughtiness of the 
pretended vicar of Christ. ' 'The whole city was moved," 
and the Englishmen deemed it prudent to withdraw, but 
the thoughts which this sermon had awakened by its 
graphic eloquence, did not pass away. 

As John Huss gazed upon this graphic " an thesis of 
Christ and anti-Christ" he felt a new power moving him, 
and a conviction steadily growing that the breach between 
the simplicity of the gospel and the traditions of the 
Church was too wide to span with an} r bridge of compro- 
mise. Yet he was not ready to accept the broad conclu- 
sions of the English Reformer. He still clung to the 
mystic rites of the Church, and saw not how its complex 
requirements could be met by the simple ministry of the 
Word. The hierarchy was a broad organized power, 
guiding men by actual close contact. How can men 
stand when upheld only by spiritual emotions ? How 
walk when led only by the mild guidance of a book ? He 
had indeed turned his eyes to the Bible ; but his eyes were 
weak, and its simple radiance was too strong for them. 
He could not take in its grandeur, nor realize its power. 
It is doubtful if he ever yielded himself so completely to 
its spirit as did Wycliffe ; therefore he could not enter 
into the sweeping reforms which the English preacher 
advocated. 

Various forces were strongly at work to unveil the 



126 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

lying oracles of the Bohemian Church of that period, 
among which were the pretended miracles at Wilsnack. 
Fostered in a church in this town was a small phial of 
the blood of Christ. Many were the pilgrims which 
flocked to it from all parts of Bohemia and the surround- 
ing countries, and wonderful cures were reported as hav- 
ing been wrought by those whose money purchased just 
one look at this holy relic. From Hungaiy, Poland, 
Norwa} 7 , and even the frozen shores of the far North, came 
hosts of pilgrims, praying for the comforting touch of its 
healing power. The archbishop of Prague, a man of sin- 
cerity and honest} 7 , placing but little credence in the re- 
ports, appointed a commission to inquire into the charac- 
ter of the miracles which had been wrought. It became 
the duty of Huss to make this investigation, in obedience 
to the bishop's command. 

He found the blind still blind, those having sores as 
bad as ever, and the whole thing an imposture ; where- 
upon the archbishop commanded all preachers through- 
out his domain to publish, at least once a month, from 
their pulpits, the Episcopal prohibition of all pilgrimages 
to Wilsnack. 

This discovery also aided Huss in realizing the de- 
graded condition of the Church which could tolerate, even 
in its lowest order of priests, such an infamous fraud, 
simply for money. 

In the year 1409, Huss was raised to the rectorship of 
the University, in which position he was able to advance 
the ideas of a reformation with greater success. He soon 
became too outspoken for the Pope, who ordered the 
archbishop to * 'proceed at once against all private 
chapels, and those who read the writings and taught the 
opinions of Wycliffe." They had not been able to burn 
John Wycliffe, but now they could at least burn his 



Huss as Rector. J2Q 

books. All Prague was searched, and upward of two 
hundred volumes, beautifully written and bound, set 
around with precious stones, were piled in the streets, 
and amid the tolling of bells they were burned in the 
presence of the hierarchy and an immense multitude. 

But the zeal of Huss burned brighter, lighted by 
the flames of this holocaust, and the next mandate 
concerned himself. He must answer for his doctrine 
in person, in the presence of the Pope. 

"To obey was to walk into an open grave. The Queen, 
the University, and many magnates of Bohemia sent a 
joint embassy requesting the Pope to dispense with Huss's 
appearance in person, and to hear him by his legal coun- 
sel." To all these entreaties he was deaf, and with calm 
malignity he drew around the fated city the holy interdict 
of Rome. The city opened its eyes with horror. Its 
startled pulses refused to beat. Men looked into each 
other's eyes, and felt their hearts failing them for fear. 
The imagination conceived horrible images of grief from 
all the tokens which met their gaze. The altar lights 
went out. Church doors were closed. The unburied 
dead lay stark, with upturned faces, at the wayside. 
Their ghostly feet were ever doomed to wander in the 
unquiet places of the lost, and every day increased the 
terror, both present and prospective, of those in whose 
midst dwelt that one man who dared to resist the Papal 
mandate. Tumult and slaughter, rapine and terror, 
walked hand in hand in the streets of the fated city. 

"What shall I do ?" exclaims the despairing apostle. 
"Shall I flee before the storm, leave my friends, and 
desert my disciples? The Master said, 'The hireling 
fleeth because he is an hireling, and careth not for the 
sheep ;' and yet he saith, 'When they persecute you in 
one city, flee ye to another.' " Believing that his pres- 



rjo Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ence could only entail greater distress upon his friends, 
he departed. He wrote tender letters to his little flock 
at Bethlehem Chapel, saying that he had retired "not to 
deny the truth, but because impious priests had forbid 
the preaching of it." He immediately began a journey, 
going through all the towns of Bohemia, preaching with 
wonderful eloquence the pure gospel message. 

In the abuse of authority which Huss was warring 
against, he could not see the false principle upon which 
was based this authority. He failed to recognize the in- 
separableness of this abuse and the claim which led to 
the exercise ot any supreme authority in spiritual things. 
Even while the Church was launching all her thunder- 
bolts at his devoted head, he did not dream of leaving it. 
He carried on a terrible warfare between the "convic- 
tions of the mind and the claims of conscience." If 
authority be just, how is it that he felt impelled to dis- 
obey it? "To obey is sin." "How can an infallible 
Church demand obedience to such an issue ?" He came 
gradually to teach the supreme authority of the Bible as 
the guide for man's conscience, and thus adopted one of 
the fundamental principles of Protestantism. There is 
no doubt but had he foreseen the result of such a step, 
he would have recoiled from laying the axe at the root of 
the tree of papal supremacy. His e}^e was not clear, his 
soul still fettered, and the law of Liberty he could not 
comprehend. 

The storm which resulted in Huss's leaving Prague 
gradually subsided. The interdict was removed, and the 
Reformer was permitted to return to the scenes of his 
former triumphs, and stand again in the pulpit of Beth- 
lehem Chapel. More popular than before his banish- 
ment ; more fearless than ever, he thundered against the 



Bethlehem Chapel. iji 

claims of the Pope, the tyranny of the priesthood, and 
declared the gospel to be free to all men. 

But a tempest was gathering. Men were looking for- 
ward to some great event. The air seemed to palpitate 
with expectation of convulsions. Huss began to realize 
that a revolution was imminent. As the signs thickened, 
he became calm and courageous. A powerful party was 
formed against him, composed partly of friends — now 
turned to foes. Bethlehem Chapel was the target for 
their poisoned arrows. Its doors would have been sum- 
marily closed, and its eloquent preacher silenced, had 
they dared to brave the people. 

As the hatred of foes waxed stronger, the Reformer's 
friends multiplied, and their courage grew bolder. The 
Queen was his friend. Her powerful influence brought 
nobles and courtiers to his cause, where his eloquence 
and convincing arguments won them to discipleship. 
Both people and aristocrats were learning to despise the 
pride, debaucheries and avarice of the priests, and to 
resist the demands of Rome. But Huss was the head 
and heart of the movement. He stood and taught-alone. 
Few could stand beside him on the heights of spiritual 
vision, in that age — few appreciate the lofty character 
and resplendent virtues of the man they loved and follow- 
ed. He stood apart in a singular loneliness, carrying 
out great deeds, and holding the pass of a Christian 
Thermopylae — one man against ten thousand. 

But it was not always to be thus. In the providence of 
God, a man ot great intellect, fearless courage and 
marvellous eloquence, espoused his cause, and became 
a true yoke-fellow. 

A Bohemian knight — Jerome by name — had in the 
year 1400 brought from England many of the writings 
of Wycliffe, and, better than all, much of his spirit and 



IJ2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

lofty devotion. He had passed through Paris, and chal- 
lenged public discussion, also in Vienna, where by a tri- 
umphant defeat of his adversaries flight became his 
only safety. lie had reached Bohemia, where he 
"spread, with all the enthusiasm of his character and all 
the brilliancy of his eloquence, the doctrines of the Eng- 
lish Reformer." V 

Huss and Jerome — names which henceforward appear 
inseparably connected — stand forth in the morning twi- 
light of the world's emancipation. The rays of light 
which stream earthward are but the faint streaks upon 
the cheek of the great ocean of St} T gian darkness and 
superstition which envelops all lands. And it is not to 
be wondered at, if the first level rays of the sun above 
the horizon magnif}- their proportions into something 
above human stature. Yet these men were intensely 
human, both in the weaker and stronger attributes of 
humanity. Their great qualities and great aims were 
similar, therefore they run well together along the same 
bright lines of duty. In minor parts there was sufficient 
difference to mutually complement each other. 

Huss was a man of heroic character, possessed of a 
glorious battle brunt, a leader of men by virtue of a 
forceful nature ; while Jerome was sensitive, subtle and 
scholarly, leading men by close argument and matchless 
eloquence. He was the greater genius ; yet with child- 
like simplicity be sat at the feet of Huss as a disciple. 
Their union multiplied their usefulness, and enabled them 
to divide their sorrows, giving a sensible impulse to 
their work. 

The movements now inaugurated were greater than 
the nation. The drama was too grand for the limits of 
Bohemia. The curtain was rising, showing the com- 



Jerome a?id Huss. 135 

motion caused by a tumultuous crowding of the new 
thoughts in other nations. 

Huss and Jerome, by the sheer force of events, were 
being lifted upon the stage of all Christendom, to enact 
their part before a world. 

But what a world ! A world dominated by three 
Popes, each the object of the other's infallible curse. 
Balthazza Cossa had been elevated by the Italians to a 
papal chair set up in Bologna. He called himself John 
XXIII. At Rimini the French had elected one Angelo 
Corario, as Gregor} T XII., while the Spaniards had estab- 
lished Peter de Lune as head of the Church at Arragon, 
under the title of Benedict XIII. Each claimed to hold 
St. Peter's place and ke} T s. Each called himself the 
vicegerent of Christ, and endeavored to establish his 
claim by excelling the others in the bitterness and rage 
with which he hurled his anathemas against them. 

Such a scene was well calculated to raise some trouble- 
some questions. 

If obedience is required, to whom shall it be rendered ? 
John XXIII. sits at Bologna, but is cursed by Gregory 
and Benedict. Gregory is at Rimini, but is under the 
ban of John and Benedict, while Benedict at Arragon is 
anathematized by both the others. All may be infalli- 
ble ; if so, all are damned, each by the other. If both 
are infallible, why does their testimony conflict ? If only 
one is infallible, even him we are unable to distinguish 
from the rest. 

These rivals, if appealed to, could hardly help toward 
a solution of the question. The cheerful testimony each 
bore the other was, "impostor, schismatic, heretic, demon 
and anti-Christ." The prodigal interest with which each 
returned the compliments of his opponent was remarka- 
ble. This peculiar circumstance reduced the whole ques- 



rj6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

tion of Popery to two problems, either of which destroyed 
it. If these men were infallible, then there were not 
three Popes but three anti-Christs, in the world, on their 
own showing. If, on the other hand, they were not to 
be believed, what becomes of infallibility and apostolic 
succession ? 

But the jealousies of these rivals, and their harmless 
curses, were a small matter compared with the evils their 
hatred and fanaticism introduced. 

The} 7 ransacked the world for soldiers to fight their 
cause, — and they must have money. One writer says : 
"They opened a scandalous traffic in spiritual things to 
supply themselves with needed gold. Pardons, dispen- 
sations, and places in Paradise they put up to sale in 
order to realize the means of equipping their armies for 
the field. The bishops and inferior clerg}*, quick to profit 
by the example set them by the Popes, enriched them- 
selves by simony. At times they made war on their own 
account, attacking, at the head of armed bands, the ter- 
ritory of a rival ecclesiastic, or the castle of a temporal 
baron." .... "Of piety nothing remained but a few 
superstitious rites. Truth, justice and order vanished 
from among men. Force was the arbiter in all things, 
and little was heard but the clash of arms and the 
sighings of oppressed nations, while above the strife rose 
the furious voices of the rival Popes, frantically hurling 
anathemas at one another." 

Such a frightful picture as society then presented must 
have its effect upon the thinking mind. Huss became 
powerfully impressed with the exigencies of the case. 
His Bible seemed to offer the only clue to a proper out- 
come of it all. Beneath the waves of passion which were 
lashing men's hearts into an anarchy of disorder he 
thought he saw a power which could be utilized for good. 



Three Popes. 137 

From the Church he could expect nothing. She had de- 
parted from her early model in both practice and doc- 
trine. Wherein he had till now levelled his shafts only 
at the abuses of the Church, he sees that these have a 
root which must be extirpated. 

He published a little pamphlet, on w ' The Church" in 
which he laj'S down the principle that the Church of 
Christ is not necessarily an organization having outward 
form, but that communion with its invisible Head is 
alone sufficient. This was followed b}' another, entitled 
11 The Six Errors" a list of which was placarded on the 
door of Bethlehem Chapel. The tract explaining them 
received an enormous circulation, and all Bohemia was 
moved by its truth and power. 

But a new movement is set on foot. It seemed that 
the power of the Rival Popes was determined by the 
effectiveness of their curses. John XXIII., issued a bull 
condemning the King of Hungary to excommunication, 
he and his children to the third generation. The pon- 
tifical wrath had burst upon him for his support of one 
of his rivals, and it called for all kings, emperors, poten- 
tates, nobles, and people to take up arms against him, 
and utterly exterminate him and his family from the face 
of the earth. To all who would engage in this crusade 
by active participation, preaching, or collecting funds, he 
promised to pardon their sins, and admit to Paradise 
when they died. Bohemia was set on fire. The popular 
heart beat warm and energetically, and when such a brand 
as this was flung into its very life, there must needs come a 
tremendous convulsion. Huss seized the opportune mo- 
ment to point out the difference between this vicar of Christ 
and Christ himself; and having clone this, he raised his 
valiant protest against indulgences and sales of iniqui- 
tous permits to sin. He grew bolder day by day, as he 



Ij8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

saw revealed more and more clearly the enormity of the 
curse pronounced by the hierarchy. His invectives be- 
came fiercer, and his denunciations terrible. His indig- 
nation knew no bounds as he beheld John XXIII., than 
whom a more infamous man never wore tiara, proclaim- 
ing his power to open and shut the gates of Paradise to 
whomsoever he would, offering pardons for money, sow- 
ing the seeds of war, and lighting the fires of martjTdom 
all over Europe, only to extinguish a rival claimant to his 
power. Before the power of Huss even this t\'rant trem- 
bled. The common people and many nobles " heard him 
gladly." They spoke out their minds relating to the 
priests, who " trembled for their lives." The archbishop 
again drew around the fated city his curse, which should 
not be removed so long as that pestilential apostate Huss 
remained within its limits. Huss retires to his home in 
the mountains, but the movement goes on. No power 
of man can sta}' its course. It is the old struggle of two 
tenses, the past and the present — the conflict of the old 
and the new. 

During his exile he wrote often to friends. In one of 
his letters he says: "If the goose (Huss is in Bohemian, 
goose), which is but a timid bird, and cannot fly very 
high, has been able to burst its bonds, there will come 
after it an eagle, which will soar high into the air, and 
draw all other birds." 

Huss has nearly ended his career. There is yet one 
sublime act for him to perform — but one. His spirit was 
at rest. He feared only for his county. For what he 
was to suffer he was prepared. He had become emanci- 
pated not only from the fatal darkness of superstition, 
but from the fear of martyrdom as well. But his country 
was not so happy. Partially rescued, it could not be- 
come wholly so until surrounding nations had come to a 



Hits s in Exile. ijg 

higher point of religious enlightenment. He had spoken 
for the last time in Bethlehem Chapel. His eloquent 
voice was hushed, to be heard no more. As a preacher, 
he had done much for Bohemia ; as a martyr, he must 
do as much for all Christendom. 

It is an important era in the world's history. The 
mark on the eternities is the year 1413. Sigismund has 
recently been raised to the throne of the empire. Nation 
is warring against nation. The Teutonic tribes are 
waging cruel wars, characterized by blood and terror. 
Bohemia is nearly rent in pieces by civil commotion. 
Italy groans beneath the hand of tyrant princes. Ger- 
many is feeling the convulsive throes of her children 
striving for light. France is distracted in its efforts to 
organize national libert}' out of overmastering defeats, 
and is being led to her shrines of glory by a peasant girl. 
Spain is under the hand of Benedict, and the Musselman 
hordes are -gathering on the frontiers of Europe, threat- 
ening to subdue all disorders by bending all nations to 
the common lot of subjects to the Crescent. 

The Emperor hits upon the expedient of a Council. 
Its forerunner at Pisa had failed, but for this he hoped 
better things. There were two objects — the healing of 
the schism, and extirpation of heresy. The Pope John, 
to whom Sigismund appealed, was terrified at the propo- 
sition. His conscience asked the question, What 
if the Council shall demand how you came to be Pope ? 
and you must answer, "Through the murder of my 
predecessor, Alexander V." But the King of Hun- 
gaiy, whom he had called all Christendom to destroy, 
was at Rome with his army, as from him he must somehow 
be delivered. 

Making the best of a bad matter, he agreed to the 
Council with terror, but with feigned pleasure, and on 



140 



Young People's Jfistory of Protestantism. 



November 1st, 1414, the august body was to assemble. 
The day arrived. From almost every city in Europe 
came delegates. It was a gathering noted for its digni- 
ty, learning and princely rank. There were thirty cardi- 
nals, twenty archbishops, one hundred and fifty bishops, 
as many prelates and doctors, abbots innumerable, with 
nearly two thousand priests, assembled at the famous 
Council of Constance. 




142 Young People's History of Protesta7itis7ii. 

This Council was a remarkable assemblage. Many of 
sovereign rank : among them the Electors of Saxon}-, of 
Palatine and Mainz ; three dukes, margraves, counts 
and barons numberless ; an illustrious scholar named 
Poggio ; the celebrated Thierry, who, as secretary of 
many Popes, was said to have been providentially 
1 'placed near the source of so many iniquities for the 
purpose of unveiling and stigmatizing them ;" Sylvias 
Piccolomini, the elegant historian, afterward Pope ; 
Gersen, the famous Gallican divine, whose subtle intel- 
lect is displayed in the fine distinctions which he draws 
between ihe spiritual and temporal forces, suggesting, 
no doubt, to a subsequent writer that famous theory of 
"power of direction in the Pope," which became the com- 
mon opinion until the dogma of infallibility made him 
absolute in the exercise of his functions. Here, also, 
was the famous cardinal of Cambray, "surnamed the 
Eagle of France," and John Charlier, noted for his brill- 
iant forensic powers. 

Nor were these all. Under many a plain, monkish 
habit were men of great brilliancy. All Christendom 
opened her doors, and sent over the mountains her 
ablest scholars, her ripest and strongest representatives. 
They came from beyond the Alps, from the slopes of the 
Pyrenees, from the shores of the North Sea, and the 
blue waters of the Mediterranean. 

The city was not sufficient to hold them all. All the 
hostelries were filled, and still they came. All the houses 
were filled, and finally outside the city walls and away 
up the hillsides wooden buildings were erected for their 
accommodation. 

Such a concourse taxed the supplies of the little town 
beyond its abilities, and all the country round about was 
laid under tribute. "The wines of France, the milk of 



The Council. 14.5 

Burgundy," the venison from the Alps, the honey from 
Switzerland, came at their call. 

Great as was this gathering ; great as were its great- 
est men, there were three who took precedence over all 
others, the Emperor Sigismund, Pope John XXIII, 
and John Huss. It is because he was there that the 
Council of Constance is prominent in the annals of the 
Church to-day. It was their relation to him which 
marks the other two with the reprobation of all mankind. 
Between the Emperor and the Pope, it was simply a play 
of circumvention. Each feared and despised the other. 
Yet, with cunning craftiness, each professed to esteem 
the other at what he claimed to be. Sigismund, while 
assuring John that he regarded him as the legal possess- 
or of the triple crown, secretly determined to depose 
him, in company with the other two Popes who had 
tailed to appear. 

It was not without great misgiving that John set out 
for Contance with a retinue of more than six hundred per- 
sons, and as he passed he took good care to make to 
him "friends of the mammon of unrighteousness," so 
that in case he had to flee, he would find arms open to 
receive him. Not a step did he proceed on his way with- 
out these precautions, yet every incident of his journey 
he construed into auguries of evil. When descending 
the mountains, his carriage was accidentally overturned, 
and he thrown upon the highway. "By the devil !" cried 
he, "I am down. I had better have stayed in Bologna." 
On the 28th of October he entered Constance in state, 
having taken the caution to present the Abbot of St. 
Ulric with a cardinal's hat. 

Quite opposite was the humble journey of Huss. Ac- 
companied only by eight chosen friends, he plodded pa- 
tiently on to his death. Before setting out he had taken 



146 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

precaution to secure a safe conduct to Constance and re- 
turn, "calling on all to allow him to pass, sojourn, stop 

AND RETURN FREELY AND SECURELY." This Was granted 

by the Emperor on the 18th day of October, in the year 
1414. Before starting Huss posted upon the doors of 
churches and even the palace a notice of his departure, 
and asking all who could testify either to his guilt or in- 
nocence to appear at the Council. 

He began his journey. It was the lowly triumph of 
one who went to martjTdom. Yet crowds pressed to 
catch a glimpse of the man who was stirring the world 
by the forces of moral and spiritual truth. He took an 
humble abode in Constance, and awaited the hour of 
trial. 

On Christmas Eve the Emperor arrived, and the Pope 
received him by the celebration of a pontifical mass. It 
had cost Sigismund infinite trouble to convene this 
Council, and through it his name was to become in- 
famous, and descend to posterity branded with an eter- 
nal blot. 

There was little of interest in the earlier sessions of 
the Council, but in the fifth it was decreed that a Council 
was superior to the Pope, thus paving the way to the de- 
thronement of the present pontiff, at least. In the 
eighth session John De Wycliffe was summoned from his 
quiet sleep, and cited to appear before the Council ; but 
he being beyond their reach, his writings were condemned, 
and later his bones were dug up and burned. 

Immediately after this the subject of the sacrament 
was discussed, and the cup taken from the laity, a decree 
being issued that the communion should be celebrated 
in only one kind, namely bread. Next follows a terri- 
ble indictment against the Pope. More than forty 
crimes were charged and proved against him, beginning 



Rural Popes. 14.7 

with the murder of his predecessor, and then following 
with heretic, simoniac, liar, hypocrite, murderer, en- 
chanter, dice-pla}-er, and adulterer, "and finally what 
crime was it that he was not infested with?" 

He made an unsuccessful struggle to outwit the Em- 
peror's party, but signalized his defeat by an ignomini- 
ous flight. He was shortly after deposed, and all 
Christendom absolved b}* an edict of the Council from 
obedience to him. 

The case of the other two Popes was easily disposed 
of, and Otto de Collonna was unanimously elected by 
the cardinals, and ruled the Church under the title of 
Martin V. 

A striking contradiction in the actions of this Council 
presents to the thoughtful mind the query as to the basis 
of action, or the principle by which it would vindicate 
its course. 

It would seem that in condemning and deposing the 
Pope for crimes identical with those for which Huss ar- 
raigned the priests, these Fathers erected a monument to 
his innocence and nobility of character. The crimes 
proved against the Pope were fouler and more atrocious 
than any charge which the Bohemian Doctor had levelled 
at the lower clerg} T ; therefore the deposing of John 
XXIII. was a clear vindication of Huss. It was not 
against his theology the} T brought their accusations, for 
he was a Catholic and a Romanist unto the end. He 
believed fully in the fundamental doctrines of the Sacra- 
ment, and while demanding it in "both kinds," 
he held firmly to the theory ot transubstantiation. If he 
followed Wyeliffe in his views regarding the authority oi 
the Pope, he stepped far short of the Englishman's 
advanced position. He was ready to receive the Scrip- 
tures as interpreted by the Church, and but feebly 



148 Young People's History of Protestantism, 

grasped the idea of Christ as the sole mediator between 
God and man. Therefore it was not for these views he 
was to suffer. 

The Council had condemned the Pontiff for infamous 
practices. It was virtually a justification of the Reform- 
er's bold denunciation of these practices. So they saw 
it ; so the world has seen it. How shall the Council 
avenge itself on the man who laid their gangrene open to 
the world, and made them probe it with their own hand. 
As a warning to others, at least, this simple priest, who 
has brought a pontiff to the dust, must burn. 

Notwithstanding the safe conduct granted by the Em- 
peror, Huss is, by imperial consent, arrested, and thrown 
into a narrow vault, where the damp, pestilential air 
brought on a raging fever. Fearful that the fever might 
cheat the stake, he was removed, and the Pope's physician 
sent to attend him, and preserve him for burning. 

It was a terrible day in Bohemia when the tidings 
reached there that Huss was arrested. A flame of indig- 
nation swept over the country, and burning words stig- 
matized the emperor's act of treachery as that by which 
he would fall from the respect of every Bohemian 
subject. 

A remonstrance, headed by the most powerful barons, 
was dispatched to Sigismund, which, after reminding 
him of his tarnished honor in suffering his "safe conduct" 
to be cruelly ignored, demanded the instant release of 
Huss. 

But vain was an appeal to kingly honor or churchly 
truth, in that hot-headed time. To vindicate its action 
the Council formulated this principle : ' ; That no faith is 
to be kept with heretics to the prejudice of the Church." 
This doctrine was not new. It had been promulgated 



Trial of Huss. 14$ 

by the Lateran Council in 1167, under Alexander III. 
It was decreed by this Council of Constance, and after- 
ward confirmed by the Council of Trent. 

Of course in the hands of men whose collective moral- 
ity was of this supple character, and whose individual 
morality was much worse, Huss had no mercy to expect. 
Completely in their power, proceedings went rapidly on. 

The flight of the Pope occasioned a lull in their move- 
ments against the Reformer until they caught the fugi- 
tive, who was brought back and cast into the same 
prison with Huss. A strange sight, surely. The preach- 
er of purity, and the man by whom he was arrested. 
The accuser bearing bonds of infamy, shame and dis- 
grace, the accused bearing bonds of virtue and of truth. 
The former chained for being what the latter says he is, 
and yet the latter dies for having said so. But the foul- 
ness of one, and the spotlessness of the other, reflect 
little credit to the crown of Sigismund. 

But little delay was now experienced in bringing Huss 
to trial. His books were produced, and he was asked 
if he acknowledged being the author of them, which he 
did. The accusation was then read, containing some 
fair statements, many unfair ones as well ; and others 
imputing to him ideas which he did not hold. Naturally, 
he attempted to reply to this, eliminating false accusa- 
tions, and giving grounds for his just opinions. He 
uttered a few words, when an uproar occurred which 
drowned his voice. He stood still, and waited. Again 
he essayed to speak, and having occasion to refer to the 
Scriptures, he was assailed by a terrible uproar of 
greater violence than before. Again he is silent. " He 
is silent," cried his enemies. " I am silent because I 
am unable to make myself heard amidst this noise," said 
the Reformer. 



FJO Young People's History of Protestantism. 

It was impossible to agree upon any course to pursue, 
and Huss was remanded to prison. 

At the earnest solicitation of many Bohemian nobles, 
the Emperor, being informed of the treatment Huss was 
receiving, concluded to be present at the next sitting of 
the Council. There he met Huss face to face. Loaded 
with chains, the humble Reformer stood before Sigis- 
mund, not with reproachful words, but the silent re- 
proach of a broken pledge of honor on the part of the 
highest Prince in all the land. 

But whatever secret resolve the Emperor had to save 
his life, it availed nothing. Standing in ghostly awe of 
the Council, he lent himself a willing tool to its measures. 

The trial presents a series of paradoxes — just enough 
was found against the victim to insure his condemnation. 
He accepted the idea of transubstantiation, and so de- 
clared to the Council. He admitted the divine office of 
the Pope, but claimed that his official acts were depend- 
ent upon his spiritual character for their efficacy. He 
did not, even to the last, abandon the communion of the 
Church. His divergence from her was more on matters 
of policy than dogma. It is true he held the Scriptures 
to be the supreme guide in matters of faith, yet he sub- 
mitted, in a great degree, to the interpretations the 
Church placed upon them. One thing the Council could 
not brook, and that was his ideas of liberty of conscience 
to the extent that heresy should not be punished by 
death until the heretic should be convicted out of the 
Holy Scriptures. Instinctively they felt Huss was not 
one of them. "He had transferred his allegiance from 
the Church to God." "He had broken the bond of sub- 
mission," had snapped the shackles of infallibility, k 'he 
must undergo the doom of a heretic." 

Long confinement had enfeebled him. Fettered hand 



Degredation oj Huss, 15 1 

and foot in a small dungeon by day, and chained to 9 
rack on the wall by night, his vigorous frame had lost its 
activity — become weakened by disease and pain. 

The Council drew up a form of abjuration. It was 
presented to him in prison, and warm-hearted friends 
tried to prevail on him to sign the paper. 

"I will abjure those things of which I am falsely 
charged," said he, "but those things which I have writ- 
ten, which I have taught, I will not abandon. I would 
rather be cast into the sea with a mill-stone around my 
neck, than offend one of those little ones to whom I have 
preached the gospel, b} T abjuring it." 

This was a fiery trial. Every inducement was held 
out to him. The slighest act or word of assent to the 
"corporate divinity" of the Council, and he shall go free. 
But freedom such as this Huss would not purchase by a 
word. 

The commissioners withdrew. "I write," said Huss, 
in a letter to a friend, "in prison, and with my fettered 
hand, expecting my sentence of death to-morrow. . . . 
When, with the assistance of Jesus Christ, we shall meet 
in the delicious peace of the future life, you will learn 
how merciful God hath shown himself toward me — how 
effectually he has supported me in the midst of tempta- 
tions and trials." 

A month passed rapidly awaj T , and the morning of 
July 6th, 1415, broke over the rugged mountains, touched 
the fair Lake Constance, and reflected in its tranquil 
bosom the towers and gabled roofs of trie city which 
rose above the dungeon walls of Huss. A calm like 
that mirrored in the bosom of the lake, filled the soul of 
the Reformer, as he was led out into the last earthly 
sunlight which he should ever see. To-day his enemies 
triumph, Sigismund is there; princes, patriarchs, arch- 



152 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

bishops, bishops, priests and nobles. It was a stage 
worthy the great enactment. A Mass was said, while he 
stood without, that he might not profane its sacred pres- 
ence ; a sermon preached against "That Obstinate Her- 
etic ;" the accusation against him read, and his refusal 
to abjure obtained. 

Sentence of death was passed, followed by the cere- 
mony of degradation. 

A chalice was placed in his hand. "Will you 
abjure?" once more was asked. 

"With what face, then," said he, "shall I behold the 
heavens? how should I look on those multitudes to whom I 
have preached the gospel? No, I esteem their salvation 
more than this poor body, now appointed unto death." 

They took from him the various priestly garments in 
which they had arrayed him ; and as each was removed, 
a separate curse was pronounced upon the martyr. 
The} r cut his hair, thus obliterating the mark of the 
crown, which, according to canon law, renders a priest 
forever incapable of exercising the functions of office. 

They now placed upon his head a pointed cap, painted 
with figures of devils, with the words "Arch Heretic" 
thereon. "When thus attired, the priests said, 'Now 
we devote thy soul to the Devil.' " "And I," said Huss, 
"commit my spirit into thy hands O Lord Jesus, for 
thou hast redeemed me." 

The Bishop delivered him to the Emperor ; the Em- 
peror gave him to the Duke of Bavaria ; anct he in turn 
delivered him to the executioners. 

A procession was formed, the martyr between armed 
men, surrounded by a cavalcade of horsemen ; the 
population followed. 

Near, but outside the gate of Gotelehen the procession 
halted. The stake was driven deep into the ground. 



Huss Led to Execution. 



*53 



Kneeling on the spot where he was to die, Huss em- 
ployed his time in prayer, and reciting the penitential 
psalms. His painted cap fell off, and was replaced by a 
soldier, who said "he must he burned with the devils 
whom he served." 




THE EXECUTION OF HUSS. 

As they bound him to the stake, he said, "It is thus 
you silence the goose, but a hundred years hence there 
will arise a swan whose singing you will not be able to 
silence." 

"He stood with his feet on fagots which were mixed 
with straw, that they might the more readily ignite. 
Wood was piled all around him up to the chin. Before 
applying the torch, Louis of Bavaria, and the Marshal of 



7J4 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the Empire approached, and for the last time implored 
him to have a care for his life, and renounce his errors. 
'What errors,' asked Huss, 'shall I renounce? I know 
myself guilty of none. I call God to witness that all 
that I have written and preached has been with the view 
of rescuing souls from sin and perdition ; and, therefore, 
most joyfully will I confirm with my blood that truth 
which I have written and preached.' At hearing these 
words they departed, and John Huss had now done talk- 
ing with men." 

When the fire was applied, Huss began to sing "Jesus, 
thou son of David, have mere}' on me," and as he was 
repeating it the third time, the wind blew the fire in his 
face, and his voice was heard no more. 

The Secretary of the Council, who afterwards became 
Pope, writing an account of this martjTdom, bears a high 
witness to the heroic demeanor of Huss, who went to 
the flames as to a marriage feast. He uttered no cry 
of pain, the last tones heard being songs of praise 
and supplication. 

When the flames subsided, it was seen that the upper 
half of the bocty remained unburned. The fires were re- 
kindled, and the scorched and shriveled remnants of the 
mart}'r reduced to ashes. These were carefully collected, 
the very soil dug up, and the whole carried and thrown 
into the Rhine. 

Huss has given up the ghost. Not a vestige of him 
remains. Outward to the sea his ashes are borne, on the 
currents of the Rhine. His enemies can rest in peace. 
Every vestige of the Reformer will perish from the earth. 
The Pope may oppress the priest, and the priest the 
people. No voice shall raise in their behalf its warning 
utterance. Huss is dead. Many looked upon the heroic 
scene with the keen relish of the dramatic critic — natural, 



Martyrdo7?i of Huss. /jr/ 

good acting, well done ; but there were others who felt a 
light shining into their hearts brighter than the flame- 
shroud of the martyr — a spirit moving there which turned 
out the corrupt deities of baptized paganism, and let 
Jesus Christ in instead. Huss was dead ; but who 
gained the victoiy? All the victories of Rome, from 
the days of the Caesars until now, pale before this which 
Huss achieved at his martyr stake. He died indeed, 
but the prophecy he uttered had quick seeds, and the 
swan song was soon heard. He died indeed, but his 
name became a power in the cause of truth ; his stake 
became a lever ; his words became a hammer, breaking 
shackles from men's intellects, and chains from men's 
consciences, emancipating from every usurpation, and 
speeding on the enfranchisement of nations and the free- 
dom of the Gospel. 

How his enemies have been surprised since that day ! 
An alabaster box of ointment was one day broken in the 
house of Simon the leper, for the anointing of the Mas- 
ter, who said of the woman's act, that in ever} T land 
where His gospel should be preached, the story of the 
woman should be told. The four winds of heaven have 
been fanning the perfume of this simple act through 
eighteen centuries, and it lives yet. 

The winds which blew over Constance that fair morn- 
ing, bore the smoke of Huss' funeral rite as a cloud of 
confusion to his enemies, and fanned the flame of the 
truth for which he died, southward to the equator, and 
northward to the shores of the frozen sea. 

Bearing his ashes in its bosom, the Rhine will sweep 
on, and become mingled with the waters of the ocean, 
never to be separated, never to be recalled. So will the 
subtle influence of his life go forth as a forceful energ}- in 
the world, rejoicing as a strong man to run a race ; nev- 



Tjf8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

er to be gathered up, never, indeed, to be measured ; 
but there, living and acting over and over again in other 
lives his glorious deeds, enjoying in each free, eman- 
cipated soul, a resurrection, through all coming time. 
The withering body sinks slowly into ashes ; but Bohemia 
feels the flame upon her cheek, and rejoices in the thrill 
of coming day. "A hundred years." Germany, Eng- 
land, and all Christendom lend a listening ear — He fore- 
told it — listen — "In the course of a hundred years you 
will answer to God and to me." 



CHAPTER XI. 

TRIAL AND TEMPTATION OF JEROME. 

During the account we have given of the life of Huss, 
we have several times referred to Jerome, his co-worker 
in the reform of Bohemia. 

It is necessary that we now retrace our steps a little, 
to gather up the threads, and present the story of the 
temptation, the fall, and the final conquest of Jerome. 

Immediately after hearing of the arrest of Huss, Je- 
rome started for Constance, in the vain hope of succor- 
ing in some way his beloved master. He found that he 
could, not only, not serve Huss, but had placed his own 
life in peril, and to save it he must flee. He went to 
Iberling, an imperial town a short distance from Con- 
stance. From here he wrote to the Emperor, stating his 
readiness to appear before the Council on receipt of a 
safe conduct. This, however, he was refused. He then 
appealed to the Council with like success. Failing to 
obtain a satisfactory response from either the Emperor 
or the Council, he caused placards to be posted in all the 
public places in Constance, and particularly upon the 
Cardinal's house. 

In these papers he professed a willingness to appear 
and answer before the Council for both his character and 
his doctrines. He declared still further that, if any 



162 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

error was found in his belief, he would willingly retract 
it. To these papers he received no answer, and imme- 
diately he set out to return to Bohemia. He had pro- 
ceeded but a little way when he was seized by an officer, 
who hoped thereby to receive the commendation of the 
Council, and was conveyed in irons to Constance. 




JEROME BEFORE THE COUNCIL. 

On the journey thither he was met by the Elector Pala- 
tno|hwo caused a long chain to be attached to his body, 
by which he was dragged, like a beast of prey, to a 
iewer, and there fastened to a block with his feet in the 
stocks, where he remained for eleven days and nights. 
He was then brought forth and threatened with torments 



The Council, i6j 

and death. These were his moments of weakness. He 
clung tenderly to life. Worn in body, broken in mind 
by confinement and ill treatment, he shrank from the 
burning stake. On the twenty-third of September, 1415, 
he made a retraction, submitted himself to the Council, 
and acknowledged the justice of the condemnation of 
Wycliffe and the martyrdom of Huss. He furthermore 
promised to live and die a Catholic, and never to preach 
anything contraiy to that faith. 

Is it^astonishing that Jerome, after so many days of 
suffering, should have thus fallen ? Having come so far 
in the footsteps of his master, whom he had seen pass 
through the fire into the sky, is it surprising that he 
could follow no farther? No, Jerome has not fallen. 
He stands in a position of terrible uncertainty. He is 
upon the brink of a great decision ; that decision made, 
he will arise, endure the stake, and "follow fully" in the 
footprints which Huss has just made. 

Perhaps it is worth while to pause a moment, and con- 
sider what is going on in the Council. But a few days 
previous to the retraction of Jerome, an eminent preach- 
er had delivered a sermon before this august assemblage 
on the text, "Where is the word of the Lord?" With 
great force and beauty the author pictured the church as 
a grand and beautiful queen who lamented that there was 
no longer any virtue in the world, ascribing the lack of 
it to the avarice and the ambition of the clergy. "For 
who are they who are the greatest opposers of the Refor- 
mation? Are they the secular princes? Far from it. 
These are the men who desire it with the greatest zeal, 
and demand it with the utmost earnestness. Who are 
they who rend the garments of Jesus Christ but the 
clergy ? Men who may be compared to hungry wolves, 
that come into the sheepfold in lamb skins, and conceal 



164 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ungodly and wicked souls under religious habits." 

Another preacher, a bishop, inveighed against the 
Council in similar terms. Both painted ugly pictures, 
upon which they invited the world to gaze, and "had 
not even the poor consolation of saying that the heretics 
had painted them." And yet these very pictures were 
those for the painting of which they had condemned 
Wy cliff e and Huss. 

There were men here who were determined that Jerome, 
following in Huss' footsteps, should not escape the same 
penalty. A wide, as well as a false accusation was 
preferred against him, amounting to over a hundred dis- 
tinct charges. Of the main accusations, relating to dif- 
ferences of doctrine, Jerome purged himself by repeating 
the creeds of the church ; but he did not believe, and feared 
not to say, that a priest either "be he scandalous 
or be he holy" had power to curse whomsoever he 
would. He held pardons and indulgences to be worth- 
less, and it is believed that he had less reverence for 
relics, and even for the Virgin herself. 

Of the truth of the accusation which he brought 
against the priesthood, the city of Constance was a no- 
table example ; she was a second Sodom, and it seemed 
that only a shower of fire and brimstone could cleanse 
her from her corruption. 

Meanwhile a remarkable change was taking place in 
the mind of Jerome in his dungeon. The courageous 
form of Huss going bravely to the stake, rose before him 
in his martyr shroud of living fire. He could not con- 
ceal from himself that there were yet further objections 
before he could finish his course with the Council, and 
the gulf into which he saw himself now plunging, was 
without bottom. The peace of mind which he had hith- 
erto found so glorious, had deserted him, and darkness 



Jerome. v 65 

seemed to be shutting him in forever. To escape a quar- 
ter of an hour's torment at the stake, he had broken faith 
with his own conscience. But he rose from pondering this 
question, his conscience once more at peace, with a de- 
termination to face the Council, which could only kill the 
body, but after death had no more that it could do. 

The accusations were presented to Jerome in prison. 
He demanded the privilege of answering them publicly. 
Fearing the effect of the prisoner's eloquence upon the 
people, these learned Fathers attempted to limit his de- 
fence to a simple Yes or No. 

"What injustice ! What cruelty ! You have held me 
shut up three hundred and forty days in a frightful 
prison, in the midst of filth and noisomeness, stench, 
and the utmost want of everything ; then you bring me 
out before you, and even though my mortal enemies, you 
refuse to hear me. If you be wise men, if you are really 
the lights of the world, take care not to sin against jus- 
tice. As for me, I am only a feeble mortal, my life is 
but of little importance, and when I exhort you not to 
deliver any unjust sentence, I speak less for myself than 
for you." 

A furious uproar rose around him as he uttered these 
words ; but as a rock amidst the weltering waves, so 
Jerome stood in the midst of this sea of passion. What 
a contrast between this face, filled with peace, lighted 
by a noble courage, and the dark and scowling visages 
which filled the hall. 

Not daring to condemn him unheard, it was agreed 
that he should fully reply on the twenty-sixth day of 
May, 1416. 

It was an oration worthy of the man, worthy of the 
place, worthy of the death which followed it. His bit- 
terest enemies acknowledged with admiration his fine 



1 66 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

logic, his wonderful memory, his force of argument, and 
the marvellous witchery of his majestic eloquence. Care- 
fully, one by one, he sifted every accusation preferred 
against him. He admitted what was true ; he condemned 
what was false. Not for life did he plead, — for that he 
did not seem to care ; not to rescue himself from the 
stake, but to rescue truth from error, and to exalt his 
cause. With the consummate art of the orator, he made 
the stern faces around him melt into a smile, or with bit- 
ing sarcasm changed the smile into rage, or with tender 
pathos brought "dewy pity" into the faces of his judges. 
Never once did he express a thought unworthy of the 
worthiest ; never once, in the recounting of the manner 
of his own life, or examining the charges against him, 
or the falsehood of the witnesses, did he indulge in per- 
sonal criminations or express thoughts of revenge. He 
reviewed the long list of men who had been condemned 
by unjust tribunals. "The benefactors of the pagan 
world, the patriots of the old dispensation, the Prince 
of Martyrs, Jesus Christ, the confessors of the new dis- 
pensation, — all had yielded up their lives in the cause of 
righteousness." The Council was not unmoved. Jerome 
proceeded. 

On his former appearance, Jerome had subscribed to 
the justice of Huss's condemnation. Now, he repented 
this wrong, and he would do what he could to atone 
for it. 

"I knew him," said he, "from his childhood. He was 
an excellent man, just and holy. He was condemned, 
notwithstanding his innocence. He has ascended to 
heaven, like Elias, in the midst of flames, and from thence 
he will summon his judges to the dread tribunal of Christ. 
I also — I am ready to die. Of all the sins I have com- 
mitted since my youth, not one weighs so heavily on my 



By the Council. i6g 

mind as the one I committed in this fatal place when I 
approved of the iniquitous sentence against WyclifTe and 
against the holy martyr, John Huss, my master and my 
friend. I declare with horror that I disgracefully failed, 
when through the dread of death I condemned their doc- 
trines ; I therefore supplicate Almighty God to pardon 
me my sins, and this one the most heinous of them all. 
You condemned WyclifTe and Huss, not because they 
shook the faith, but because they branded with reproba- 
tion the scandals of the clergy, their pomp, their pride, 
and their luxuriousness." 

The whole Council quivered with uncontrollable anger. 
"What need we," say they, "of further proof of the ob- 
stinate heretic before us ?" With a gesture full of dig- 
nity and a voice touching, clear and sonorous, Jerome 
went on : 

'What ! do, you think that I fear to die? You have 
kept me a whole year in a dungeon more horrible than 
death. You have treated me more cruelly than Saracen, 
Turk, Jew or Pagan, and my flesh has rotted literally off 
my bones. I make no complaint ; lamentation ill be- 
comes a man of spirit, yet I cannot but express my aston- 
ishment at such barbarity towards a Christian." 

This speech caused an outbreak of rage and confusion, 
in which the sitting closed. Back to his dungeon Jerome 
was carried, loaded with heavy chains, and subjected to 
greater indignities of treatment. 

Many of the bishops, however, acknowledging the 
splendid talents of Jerome, took occasion to visit him in 
prison, and implored him to retract ; but, true to his con- 
science, he demanded that they prove to him from the 
Scriptures that he was in error. Last of all to visit him 
was the Cardinal of Florence. He praised the wonder- 
ful gifts of eloquence, the matchless orator} 7 with which 



iyo Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Jerome had been endowed. He sketched a brilliant 
career open to him, if he would but throw down his hos- 
tility to the Church, and return to spiritual obedience ; 
but brilliant words could not dazzle the eye nor confuse 
the determination of Jerome. He had debated in the 
silence of his cell, in the bondage of chains ; his mind 
had been made up for all time. "Prove to me from the 
Holy Writings that I am in error, and [ will abjure it." 
"The Holy Writings !" replies the Cardinal, "who can 
understand them until the Church has interpreted them ?" 
"What do I hear ?" answered Jerome; "are the tradi- 
tions of men more worthy of faith than the Gospel of our 
Saviour? Paul did not exhort those to whom he wrote 
to listen to the traditions of men, but said, 'Search the 
Scriptures.'" "Heretic!" cried the Cardinal. "I re- 
gret haviug pleaded so long with you. I see that you 
are urged on by the Devil !" 

The morning of the thirtieth of May, 1416, dawned 
bright and clear over the city and the beautiful lake of 
Constance. As on another occasion, so now, a man is 
brought forth to receive his sentence at the hands of the 
famous Council, whose onl} T claim to a place in history 
is the infamy which attaches to its destruction of Huss 
and Jerome. 

Again the grandees of the empire filled the church ; 
the officials of the Council, its delegates and nobility, all 
gathered within and without, celebrating a solemn mass 
previous to the burning of another heretic. From the 
gloom of his silent prison Jerome is brought before this 
brilliant assembly, decorated with its robes of Office 
State and Rank. Fearing this infirm and broken invalid 
would succeed in eluding their hatred, they surrounded 
the place with the troops of the Emperor. Jerome was 
again asked if he would retract, and on his refusal to do 



Martyrdom of Jerome. ryj 

so, he was condemned to death as a heretic, and deliv- 
ered over to the State. It was requested that the civil 
judge would deal gently with him, and spare his life, 
which is quite paradoxical, inasmuch as the stake where 
he was to sutler had been planted, the fagots prepared, 
and officers of execution sat in readiness. J erome seemed 
to rise to meet the occasion. Mounting an elevation that 
he might be heard by all the assembly, he expressed his 
sorrow at having given his approval of the burning of 
Huss. "In dying," he said, "I shall leave a sting in 
your hearts and a worm in your consciences, and I cite 
you all to answer to me before the most high and just 
Judge within a hundred years." 

Jerome being a la} T man, had not to undergo the cere- 
mony of degradation. They had prepared for him a cap 
in the shape of a mitre, painted with red devils. When 
this was placed upon his head, he said, '-As my Lord 
did for me wear a crown of thorns, so for him do I wear 
this crown of ignominy." As they led him out of the 
church, he sang the Credo as it is accustomed to be sung 
in the Church. As he passed aiong the way through the 
streets, his voice was still heard, clear and loud, singing 
Church canticles. The spot where he was to suffer had 
already been consecrated by the ashes of Huss. He 
was bound to the stake, the wood piled to his neck, his 
garments thrown upon the pile, and the torch applied. 
The executioner was applying the torch behind, when 
Jerome said, "Come forward, kindle the pile before nry 
face, for had I been afraid of fire, I should not have 
been here." As the scorching flames beat upon his face, 
and choked his utterance, the voice was heard saving, 
"O Lord God, have mercy upon me !" but for the space 
of a quarter of an hour his lips were seen to move in the 



ijd Young People's History of Protestantism. 

midst of the flames, showing that he was engaged in 
prayer. 

When his bod} T had been reduced to ashes, all that 
had been left behind him in the cell, which had been 
contaminated by his touch, were thrown upon the same 
spot, and burned, after which the whole was carefully 
gathered up and thrown into the Rhine. 

What rejoicing in the ranks of the enemies ! Heresy 
in Bohemia is dead forever ! Huss and Jerome both 
are dead. The Council ma} T sleep in peace now. No 
John the Baptist la} T s the axe at the root of their popular 
traditions. No Wj'cliffe presses the point of his clear 
logic between the joints of their armor. No Huss assails 
the scandalous practices of their priesthood. No Jerome 
fires the popular heart with the fervor and love of truth. 
The short-sightedness of those who looked thus upon this 
extinction of the last martyr, can only be compared with 
the intensity of their bigotiy. 

They had not quenched the light ; they had only scat- 
tered ten thousand torches over the face of Christendom, 
and instead of erasing the names of these men from the 
world, they had raised them to a height where all men 
could see them, and had built an eternal monument to 
their memory. 




JEROME IN HIS DUNGEON. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE HUSSITE CHURCH. 



There tachery by which the Vindicator and the Re- 
former of his nation's wrongs had been immolated by 
emperor and priests at Constance, roused the popular 
indignation in Bohemia to a great heat. It was evident 
that some fierce outburst of passion would soon be 
witnessed. The people spoke of Huss as the apostle of 
Bohemia, innocent, pious and holy. 

Holding the pen in one hand, grasping the sword-hilt 
in the other, they wrote to the dignitaries assembled at 
Constance. 

"Whoever shall affirm that heresy is spread abroad in 
Bohemia lies in his teeth, and is a traitor to our king- 
dom. While we leave vengeance to God to whom it be- 
longs, we shall carry our complaint to the footstool of 
the indubitable Pontiff, when the Church shall again be 
ruled by such an one, declaring a new ordinance which 
man shall render, by protecting the humble and faithful 
preachers of the words of our Lord Jesus, and de- 
fending them fiercely, even to the shedding of blood." 

The throne was at that time filled by Wenceslaus. 
He had once been dethroned by his brother Sigismund, 
but had recovered an altered, but not improved tenure. 
Shut up in his palace, leading the life of a sensualist, the 



ry8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

opinions of his subjects were to him a matter of supreme 
indifference. He cared little for the church, less for or- 
thodox}^ as heresy was sometimes called. He rejoiced 
secretly in the progress of Hussism, hoping it would re- 
sult in destroying the wealth of the priesthood and eccle- 
siastical corporations. He disliked the priests, and 
called them "the most dangerous of all the comedians." 

The ideas of Huss rapidly gained ground, and in less 
than four years from the time his ashes were thrown into 
the Rhine, the greater part of the nation had embraced 
the faith for which he died. Nobility, as well as peas- 
antry, joined the ranks, together with many of the lower 
clergy. The cause became national. The Bohemians, 
in their revulsion of feeling, threw off the chains of their 
Roman vassalage. 

A slight divergence of opinion was traceable, even 
at this time, among the Protestants. One party claimed 
the Scriptures as their only standard and rule of faith, 
and came to bear the name of Taborites, the name of a 
hill upon which one of their earliest encampments was 
made. 

The other party remained within the communion of 
the Church, though abandoning it at heart. Their em- 
blem was the cup, meaning to symbolize that they be- 
lieved in communion of "both kinds." The cup became 
the national Protestant symbol ; it was carried in ad- 
vance of their armies, and blazoned upon their banners 
in striking contrast to the Roman symbol, which was the 
Cross ; but whenever they were engaged in a conflict 
with Rome, the two parties were always found upon the 
same battle-field, joining their prayers and their arms* 
which kept them united as one body. 

During this time a new Pope had been elected by the 
Council of Constance. On the 14th of November, 1417, 



Election of Pope Martin V. 179 

the Cardinals came to a decision — hastened, no doubt, 
by the fact that they were put upon a thin diet — and an- 
nounced Otho de Colonna as Pope. 

The election falling upon St. Martin's day, the Pope 
took the title of Martin V. 

Through the same gate which Huss and Jerome had 
passed to the stake, there swept a different procession. 
The Pope, upon a white horse, whose bridle rein was held 
by the Elector of Brandenburg, passed on to be en- 
throned. 

Bohemia was his first care. A great movement was 
surely advancing. It had Wycliffe for teacher, Huss 
and Jerome for its early martyrs. Against it the Pope 
hurled his excommunication ; but more powerful weapons 
than those of a spiritual machine must be used to crush 
it. The Emperor was called upon to engage in this ser- 
vice. The customary rewards, crowns, and high places 
in Paradise, were freely offered to those who would dis- 
play the greatest zeal in the extermination of the here- 
tics. On the 15th of May the Pope sang his last mass 
m the Cathedral of Constance, and on the following day 
set out on his journej T to Pome. 

Leaving him to pursue his way, we turn our eyes to 
Bohemia. 

Woe upon woe seemed falling upon that devoted nation. 
Its two noblest men had been sacrificed at the stake ; 
against it the Pope had hurled his excommunications, 
and now the Emperor was organizing vast armies to in- 
vade its territory, and submerge its fair fields in seas of 
blood. 

The craven king, devoted to feasting, revelry and 
licentiousness, had neither heart nor power to oppose 
either the spiritual or the temporal invasion of his realm. 
Though filled with indignation, the citizens were dis- 



180 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

tvacted, having neither counsellors to advise, nor leaders 
to guide them. As in the van of all great movements a 
man seems mercifully raised up to meet the circumstances, 
even so here, one of the most remarkable men of the ages 
presents himself to organize a nation and to guide its 
armies. This man was John Trocznowski, better known 
by the more pronounceable name of Ziska, that is, the 
one-eyed. 

Adopting at an early age the profession of arms, Ziska 
had been retained in the palace of the jovial monarch, 
where he enjoyed with others the feasting and revelry of 
that boisterous and inefficient court. But the death of 
Huss, sending a thrill of indignation through the heart 
of the nation, roused the fury of the gay courtier of the 
palace. He might be seen with folded arms and thought- 
ful, earnest brow, pacing the long corridors which looked 
down on the broad bosom of the Moldau, and on the 
forests of Prague which stretched away toward the dis- 
tant horizon which had been so recently lighted by the 
flames of Huss. 

In jesting mood the gay monarch inquired, " What is 
this, Ziska?" 

" I cannot brook the insult offered to Bohemia," was 
his reply, " by the murder of John Huss." 

"What is the use of vexing one's self about it?" 
asked the monarch. " Neither you nor I can avenge it. 
But," added he, good-humoredly, "if you are able to 
call the Emperor and Council to an account }^ou have my 
permission to do it." 

"My gracious Master," replied Ziska, "will you be 
pleased to give me that permission in writing ? " 

Richly enjoying so harmless a joke he placed in the 
hands of this layman who had neither friends, money, 



Civil War in Bohemia. 181 

nor soldiers, the document he desired, bearing the royal 
seal. 

Ziska was not in jest. He quietty awaited his oppor- 
tunity. The Pope had just issued his bull against the 
Hussites. The citizens of Prague assembled to consider 
the means for avenging the nation's insulted honor. 
Suddenly a man appeared in their midst armed with a 
royal authorization. He placed himself at their head, 
and demanded for themselves and the nation liberty to 
act and to worship as they pleased. 

The streets of Prague ran with blood shed in civil feud 
between the almost frantic factions. 

The King, unusually disturbed by these exciting scenes, 
succumbed to a fit of apoplexy, in which he died. The 
King being dead, the Catholics were emboldened by the 
Queen's boldly espousing their cause. For seven da}*s 
and nights the old bridge which crosses the river was the 
scene of fighting and bloodshed almost unparalleled in 
the history of civil insurrections. The churches and the 
convents were pillaged, and often their inmates were 
massacred. The false-hearted Emperor, brother of the 
late King, marched his armies upon Prague to quell the 
insurrection and to seize the crown. 

The tempest burst in fury upon the land. The 
campaign, which lasted through eighteen weary years, 
now began. It is noted for the intensity of passion, the 
carnage of its fields, and the miraculous victories of a 
handful of earnest men. On Michaelmas Day, 1419, the 
Hussites assembled upon a great plain to celebrate the 
Eucharist. It is said that fort}' thousand people assem- 
bled there. At the close of their service, which was very 
simple, they set a time when they would meet again for a 
like purpose ; but the second meeting was not to pass off 
so quietly. The troops of the Emperor were lying in 



182 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ambuscade to meet them. Supported by a small body 
of soldiers, they completely routed the imperial calvary, 
aucl pursued their way flushed with the triumph of their 
first victory. 

The gods seem to help those who help themselves, and 
without knowing the service he was rendering to this 
little band of earnest men, the Turk demanded the atten- 
tion of the Emperor by thundering at the gates of his 
empire on the opposite side from Bohemia. Ziska saw 
his advantage. He issued a manifesto rousing the relig- 
ious fervor and patriotism of his countrymen to the high- 
est degree, and signed it, "Ziska of the Chalice, in the 
hope of God, chief of the Taborites." 

From every village and plain of Bohemia they rallied 
to the standard of Ziska, which was now planted on 
Mount Tabor. Almost undisciplined, they presented but 
a forlorn hope against the arms of the Emperor, but 
the first body of troops they encountered were completely 
captured, disarmed, and the weapons the Hussites so 
sadly needed were thus furnished Emboldened by the 
second victor}-, they entered the city of Prague. Five 
hundred churches and convents were pillaged, and their 
immense wealth appropriated for the expenses of the 
war. That this contemptible little company could worst 
the Emperor was not for a moment to be thought of, and 
yet he deemed it prudent to come to terms with the Turk 
in order that he might deal with Ziska. 

He now assembled an arm}' of one hundred thousand 
men to besiege Prague, but this great host was ignomin- 
iously driven from before the walls of the city. The sec- 
ond attempt in 1420 resulted in a second repulse and a 
greater disgrace. 

Soon after this a Diet was held, in which the Bohemians 
considered what disposition they should make of the crown, 




HUSSITE LEADERS. 



Degredation of Huss. 185 

but as the matter was left undecided, a regency was estab- 
lished composed of nobles and citizens, with Ziska as its 
president. The Emperor sent proposals to the Diet, 
which were scornfully rejected, and the four following 
articles were declared as the indispensable basis upon 
which they would accept terms of peace : 

"First, the free preaching of the Gospel ; second, the 
celebration of the Supper in both kinds ; third, the secu- 
larization of the ecclesiastical property, excepting what 
might yield a comfortable subsistence to the clergy ; 
fourth, the execution of laws against all crimes, whether 
committed by laics or clerics." 

The war resumed its course. It was interesting and 
terrible. Ziska won battle after battle, performing feats 
of valor and displaying marvellous ability as a general. 
He outmanoeuvred the enemy, overwhelmed them by sur- 
prises, baffled them by new and unaccountable tactics. 
He became a pillar of cloud to his enemies and a pillar 
of fire to his followers. Always successful, they forgot 
the odds against them and the possibility of defeat. 
The cause they fought for gave even a holy character to 
their conduct. In their marches their pastors led them. 
Before entering battle they partook of the Sacrament, 
and they went into action singing the psalms of David 
and the hymns of the Church. In the rear of their armies 
followed the women, caring for the sick and the wounded, 
or working with the soldiers upon the ramparts. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

HUSSITE WARS. 

Pause for a moment to consider where we stand. The 
cause of the Hussites has always been misunderstood, 
often branded with condemnation and abhorrence. The 
slow ages as they have rolled on have been reluctant to ac- 
knowledge the justice and the grandeur of their cause. 
We speak in glowing terms of the Fathers of America, 
who left their homes to found a nation upon the princi- 
ples of religious freedom. More than a hundred } r ears be- 
fore, the Hussites present the first instance of a nation 
voluntarily uniting in a holy band to maintain the right 
to worship God according to the dictates of conscience. 
They maintained that right, indeed, by the sword, but 
you will remember that it was not left for them to choose 
the weapons with which they were to fight their sacred 
battle. 

Cursed by the Pope, invaded by the Emperor, they 
had no choice but to fight, and having once taken the 
sword they used it with a determination and a result which 
caused their enemies to long remember their prowess. 
They paved the way of the reformation of the sixteenth 
century ; the} 7 fought the battle ; they shed the blood, 
and the sixteenth century entered into their rest. Had 
they not fought and bled, other nations in later years 
would have enacted their sanguinary history on other 







HUSSITE SHIELD. 



Ziska's Method of Defence. i8g 

fields. The many battles in which Ziska acted his glo- 
rious part, it will be impossible for us to enumerate. 
It is, perhaps, safe to sa}' that no general, either an- 
cient or modern, ever organized out of such meagre ma- 
terial an army which he led to universally victorious 
fields. We have spoken of him as having lost the use 
of one eye in childhood. During a famous seige he lost 
the other, and became totally blind. Taking all things 
into account ; his blindness, the untrained peasantry 
which he transformed into soldiers, the times of igno- 
rance and superstition in which he lived, and the fear- 
ful odds against him, he stands before us as one of the 
greatest generals that ever lived. Before entering into 
action he called a few officers around him, questioned 
them as to the nature of the ground and the enemy's 
position. With marvellous genius he arranged his army, 
directed every movement, foresaw every emergency and 
met every difficulty. The chief who led invincible ar- 
mies walked before them in a pavilion of darkness. His 
remarkable success was attained partly by the novel 
methods of defence which he employed in the field, partly 
by his generalship, and partly by the belief every soldier 
had in the justice of this cause. 

"The wagons of the train of supplies were linked one 
to another by strong iron chains ; and ranged in line, 
were placed in front of the host in the form of a circle. 
This wall sometimes enclosed the whole army. Behind, 
or within the first rampart rose the second, formed of 
the long wooden shields of the soldiers stuck in the 
ground." This was a most formidable obstruction to 
cavalry. Mounted on heavy horses, armed only with 
pikes and battle-axes, the enemy was obliged to force 
its way through this double fortification. 



igo Young People's Histo7-y of Protestantism. 

While they were hewing at the chains and the wagons 
of the outer row, the Bohemian archers were playing a 
deadly fire of arrows into their ranks, and when the Ger- 
mans closed for battle it was with thinned numbers and 
exhausted strength. 

A somewhat remarkable weapon was also adopted 
by the Bohemians, consisting of a heavy iron flail which 
they swung with tremendous force. They seldom failed 
to hit, and when they did so, the flail cut through hel- 
met and skull. They alwa\ 7 s carried a long spear with 
a hook on the end with which they dragged the riders 
from their horses to the ground, where they were quickly 
dispatched. 

Ziska fought sixteen pitched battles, many skirmishes 
and sieges, in all of which he was successful. His career 
was suddenly terminated by the plague on the 11th of 
October, 1424. It is related, yet without truth, that on 
his death-bed he requested his followers to make a drum 
of his skin, believing that its sound would terrify the 
enemy. Although they had lost a great leader, the Huss- 
ites were not distressed, for upon his death-bed Ziska 
named his successor, who proved a greater man, al- 
though of less fame. Procopius was the son of a nobleman, 
who had received an excellent education and had trav- 
elled much in foreign countries. His devotion to the 
cause of Bohemia was as great as that of Ziska's, while 
he added to the qualities of a soldier and general that of 
a wise statesman. 

The enemies of the Bohemians, not knowing that the 
loss of Ziska had been repaired by a greater general, con- 
fidently expected that victory would now change sides. 
The terrible blind warrior they had well learned to fear 
was no more, but the blood of Jerome and Huss made 
their swords heavy. 




PROCOPIUS. 



Procopius Defeats the Germans. igj 

The Emperor now engaged the services of the Pope, 
who, in addition to writing to all the German princes, 
encouraging them to join in exterminating the Bohemian 
heretics, issued a bull ordering a crusade against them. 
Again the tempests muttered in the horizon, the storm 
clouds gathered darkly, and the little band of excommu- 
nicated men drew closer together. The unsheathed 
sword which glittered so brightly over their heads re- 
minded them that above all the differences that had risen 
among them, they had a common country and a com- 
mon faith to defend. The summons of the Pontiff had 
been but too generally responded to. An army was 
gathered consisting of a hundred thousand men, three 
thousand wagons, and one hundred and eighty pieces of 
cannon. 

On the loth of June this imposing army entered Bohe- 
mia in three columns, and encamped on the great plain 
which lies between Dresden and Toplitz. 

On Sabbath morning, with the generosity for which he 
was ever noted, Procopius sent to the German camp the 
proposal that quarter should be given on both sides. 
The answer was returned that they would give no quar- 
ter to those whom the Pope had cursed. "Let it be so 
then," said the Bohemian leader, "and let no quarter be 
given on either side." Behind five hundred wagons, 
fastened to one another with iron chains, the little army 
awaited its formidable foe. With tremendous fury they 
broke upon the outer wall, hewing in pieces with their 
battle-axes the iron fastenings of the wagons. Passing 
onward, they threw down the shields behind which 
the soldiers lay. An occasional shot from their swivel 
guns was the onry remonstrance the Bohemians thus far 
made, the men resting quietly upon their arms. But 
when face to face with the enemy, their terrible warcry 



194 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

rang throughout the camp, and springing to their feet, 
they swung their terrible flails, and plied their long 
hooks, pulling the Germans from their horses and 
slaughtering them upon the ground. Rank after rank 
pressed into the enclosure only to become blended in the 
fearful carnage of the fatal spot. 

From morning till afternoon the battle raged, but the 
Bohemian ranks remained almost untouched. The day 
closed with a terrible rout to the invaders, who sought 
refuge in the mountains and woods around the field of 
action. The fugitives when taken, implored quarter, 
but before entering action they had settled it, and no 
quarter was given. The loss to the Germans in killed 
and wounded swelled to the number of fifty thousand, 
while of the Hussites there fell in battle only thirty men. 

Scarce had this terrible tempest passed over them, and 
the sky cleared, when the Pope commissioned the Bishop 
of Winchester to lead a new Bohemian crusade. On find- 
ing no Englishmen willing to follow him, the Bishop 
crossed into Belgium, where in the surrounding nations 
he raised an immense army, consisting of ninety thou- 
sand infantry and an equal number of cavalry. Here, 
certainly, were swords enough to convert the Bohemian 
heretics. The Electors of the Empire, princes, counts, 
and nobles marched forward to the scene of their coming 
triumph. The Bohemians went forth to meet them. 
The armies stood within sight of each other, separated 
only by a small river. The crusaders, although out- 
numbering them ten to one, stood in silence upon the 
river bank gazing upon the warriors they had come so 
far to encounter. They did not dash into the stream and 
close in battle, but looked upon those faces begrimed 
with the smoke and dust of battle, hardened by constant 
exposure ; seeming to realize the wild pictures of terror 



Procopius Desolates Western Germany. 195 

which report had made familiar long before they came in 
contact with the men. 

For a few minutes this great arm}' of men stood gazing 
upon the scene. A sudden panic fell upon them. They 
turned and fled in wildest terror, and utmost confusion. 
The Hussites plunged into the river, climbed the opposite 
bank and hung upon the rear of the retreating army with 
merciless slaughter. As if to avenge the insults, the 
peasants, through whose country the army marched, 
avenged upon the foe in his retreat the ravages commit- 
ted in his advance. 

The booty was so great that hardly any individual in 
Bohemia was not made rich. But Procopius was desir- 
ous of peace. He was ready to die, if need be, in de- 
fence of the liberties of his country, but he desired, if 
possible, to close these fearful wars if it could be done 
on honorable and safe terms. He assembled the Diet 
of Prague, and was empowered to go to Vienna and lay 
the terms of the Bohemian people before the Emperor. 
But it was vain. With satisfaction that he had held out 
the olive branch of peace, he again unsheathed the sword 
and assumed offensive warfare upon those nations which 
had brought it into Bohemia. 

The whole of Western Germany now felt the weight of 
his sword. He converted whole towns into heaps of 
ruins, and returned homeward with three hundred wagons 
groaning under the weight of the immense booty he had 
secured. 

•We neither justify nor condemn this invasion. To do 
so we must take into account the character of the age, 
the circumstances of the people taking arms in self-de- 
fence. They felt justified in chastising severally the 
nationalities which hated them and hung around them as 
a perpetual menace. It was not their fault if the fifteenth 



ig6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

century did not put them in possession of clear, well 
denned truth, and of that wide liberality which the nine- 
teenth century has put within our reach. Both their 
piety and their patriotism were superior to ours, but if 
the ethical maxims which control the actions of those 
virtues were not so clearly nor so fully developed, it is 
not our place to cavil. 

Pope Ulartin V. died of apoplexy in 1431. He was 
succeeded on the 16th of March by Eugenius IV. It 
became necessary for him and the Emperor to take coun- 
sel concerning the danger which threatened the over- 
throw of all Christendom, and even their own destruc- 
tion. Another crusade was proclaimed, and rewards 
were offered, far exceeding those previously bestowed, to 
all who could fight or pra} T for the success of their cause. 
Even the most heinous crimes were forgiven, that the 
crusader might be obtained, and permitted to go into 
battle with a clear conscience. Besides the spiritual en- 
ticements, the feeling of exasperation was warm in the 
breasts of the Germans, wherever their eyes rested upon 
savage fields and their ruined cities. Besides, their 
valor had been sorely tarnished, and they hoped now 
to wipe out the stains of their national disgrace. 

The city of Nuremberg became the headquarters of 
the crusaders, where they assembled an army of horse 
and foot amounting to one hundred and thirty thousand 
men. On the 1st of August, 1431, this multitude of 
warriors crossed the frontier, and poured into the great 
forest which covered that part of the Bavarian country. 

Day by day tidings reached the little army of Hussites 
of the approach of the enemy. Their feelings we can 
well imagine. With desperate daring they prepared to 
stand foot to foot in the defence of their country and 
their faith. They were outnumbered more than two to 




HUSSITE CHURCH. 



Procopins' Retreat. igg 

one, but leaning upon the cross, they looked upward, 
and cahnry awaited the approaching foe. On its near 
arrival, Procopius retreated, spreading the reports that 
the Bohemians had quarrelled among themselves, and 
were fleeing. The enenry fell easily into the trap. 

The Bohemians reversed their movements, and sud- 
denly marched upon the foe. Terror filled the ranks of 
the German army, and, encamped near the river Resin- 
berg, it learned that these terrible warriors, which the}' 
had supposed to be fleeing before them, were marching 
rapidly upon their encampment. The rumble of their 
wagons, the wild strains of their war hymns, were dis- 
tinctly heard. The leaders of the German host, roused 
to the exigencies of the occasion, had but a few minutes 
to consider their course of action, when they were 
startled by a strange and unaccountable movement of 
their enemies. Smitten with terror, they were seen flee- 
ing on every hand ; the soldier threw away his armor, 
and fled ; the wagoners, emptying their vehicles, set off 
across the plain towards the nearest place of safety. 
The panic extended to officers as well as men. The 
Duke of Bavaria was the first to flee, followed by electors, 
counts and nobles. The rear guard of his train was 
headed by the Papal legate, who had been commissioned 
to lead his armies in person. He left behind him his 
hat, his bell, his cross, and the Pope's bull proclaiming 
the crusade. The booty was immense ; even wagon-loads 
of coin, destined for the payment of the German troops, 
became their booty. 

Finding that arms but poorly served the cause, Rome 
was compelled to resort to stratagem. The little coun- 
try, peopled with heroes, would not yield to force, but 
soon fell when subjected to the unscrupulous wiles of 
their adversary. The Pope and the Emperor addressed 



200 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

letters to the Bohemians, earnestly desiring peace, and 
asking quiet possession of the kingdom which could not 
be obtained b} T force 

In an ancient city on the frontier, between Germany 
and Switzerland, washed by the Rhine on one side, 
skirted by the mountains of the Black Forest on the 
other, was assembled, in the year 1432, a General Coun- 
cil of the Church. 

To this Council the Bohemians were invited to confer 
on their points of difference. The deputies chosen to 
represent them were Procopius, John Rocbyzana, and 
others. 

The deputies arrived in Basle, and all the inhabitants 
turned out to gaze upon these men whose ideas were so 
abominable and whose arms were so terrible. With sur- 
prise the spectators missed the "teeth of lions and eyes 
of demons," credited to them b}* those who had fled be- 
fore them in battle. Their tall figures, their gallant 
bearing, faces scarred in battle, and eyes filled with cour- 
age, drew forth their admiration. 

These deputies had received their instructions before 
leaving Prague. The indispensable conditions of peace 
which they were to offer were : first, the free preaching 
of the Word ; second, the right of the people to the Cup, 
and the use of the vernacular tongue in the Divine ser- 
vice ; third, the ineligibility of the clergy to secular 
offices ; and fourth, the execution of the laws in the case 
of all crimes without respect to the persons. 

Immediately, when they presented themselves to the 
Council, they demanded that all deliberations be confined 
to those four points. These four articles were discussed 
by members of the Council who were chosen to impugn 
them, and were defended by the Bohemian delegates 
appointed for the purpose. An easy victory in argu- 




CATHEDRAL AT WORMS. 



Procopins' Death. 203 

ment was anticipated over these men who had passed 
their lives on the battle-field. For three months the 
debate continued, without success on either side, and the 
delegates left Basle to return to their own countiy. A 
division followed which greatly weakened the force of 
the Hussites. Bloody encounters took place between 
the parties, in one of which Procopius was slain, and 
with his fall came the end of the Hussite wars. He fell, 
weary of conquering rather than conquered, and with 
him fell the cause of the Hussites. 

Bohemia dug the grave of her liberties in the compact 
which placed Sigismund upon the throne, and practically 
restored the authority of Rome in Bohemia. 

It is well, perhaps, to ask the question as to the result, 
had the Bohemians maintained their ground. Would the 
Reformation, begun and carried on as we have now 
related, have regenerated Christendom ? We think not. 
In principle they fell short of Wycliffe's ideas which pre- 
ceeded them, and of Luther's, which came after. 

The spiritual and intellectual forces were less strongly 
developed, while the patriotic and the military were in 
the ascendant. This Reformation had not principle of 
sufficient power to move the conscience of mankind. It 
had respect mainly to the corruptions of the church, not 
to its doctrines. 

Many checkered years followed the death of the Em- 
peror, yet a few bright ones are recorded under the 
regency of Podiebrad, who was afterwards elected kins:. 
He strove, by an upright administration, to bring peace 
and prosperity to the distracted nation. 

About the year 1455, one branch of the Bohemian 
church formed itself under the name of the United Breth- 
ren. Thej T became the object of murderous prosecution. 
They were dispersed in the woods and mountains, in- 



204 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

habited dens and caves, being obliged to prepare their 
meals by night lest their hiding-places be discovered. 
They sent messengers secretly throughout all Christen- 
dom to inquire if anywhere there was purity of faith and 
security against persecution. The messengers return ; 
they say that darkness covers the face of the earth, save 
where men here and there confessed the truth. 

In 1471, through the death of Podiebrad, a Polish 
prince ascended the throne, who delivered them from 
persecution. Years passed awa}', and the end of the 
century found two hundred churches of the United 
Brethren in Bohemia and Moravia. So it was, in spite 
of fire and sword, the fury and the hatred of men, that a 
goodly remnant was permitted to see the dawn of the 
day which Huss had foretold. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

MOVEMENTS IN PROTESTANTISM. 

It is our purpose to follow aloug in chronological or- 
der the chief events in the great movements in Protest- 
antism, in those nations which have exercised the largest 
influence in establishing the work of the Reformation. 
This method brings us, at the present time, to the open- 
ing of the sixteenth century. But while we have been 
speaking of Protestantism in England and in Bohemia, 
other countries have been agitated to a greater or to a 
less degree b} T the same principle, working out in differ- 
ent forms a protest against the misrule of the Catholic 
Church. We shall endeavor, later in the history, to 
gather up these fragments, and relate them to the great 
movement which we now sketch in chronological 
sequence. 

The beginning of the sixteenth centuiy, next to the 
Christian era, is probably the most important epoch in 
the world's history. Above its portal the clear light of 
the awakening intelligence was banishing the darkness of 
the Middle Ages, touching the hill-tops of the world of 
thought, of literature and of science, and gradually work- 
ing its way clown to the valleys of common life ; the 
great masters of painting were unrolling their marvel- 
lous canvases to the gaze of multitudes, who, seeing 
them borne aloft through the streets, knelt in reverence 
before their great beauty ; the voice of the early singers 



206 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

was heard, chanting in clear strains the earliest songs in 
the mother tongue which have come down to us from the 
intellectual store-houses of the awakened nations. For 
thousands of years the foundations of a glorious edifice 
had been slowly laid in the darkness of earliest centuries. 
Slavery had corrupted the earliest society, and the ex- 
periment of rearing a new social edifice upon the old 
foundations had ended in failure. During the centuries 
between* the fourth and the sixteenth, the Greek and 
Roman nations had become corrupted and nearly impo- 
tent. Although the Gospel had been embraced by them, 
they could not advance it to its full maturity. Unable 
to adapt themselves to new forms of life, or to the guid- 
ance of great principles, the}^ fell back upon the past, 
and turned their eyes constantly towards the setting 
beauties of their once glorious civilizations. But was 
it to be ? 

If the nations pause here, Christianity remains, not 
merely a half-finished structure, but the defaced ruin 
which the fourth and fifth centuries beheld. The answer 
to the question was given by the opening gates of the 
north, and the issuing forth of those hardy races which 
spread themselves over Southern and Western Europe. 
It was a great drama which they performed, and Hun, 
Vandal, Frank and Lombard played the part best suited 
to his abilities. They stamped out the laws, the religion 
and the government of the Old World. This was the 
first act. There was no past behind these wandering 
tribes, no storied traditions, no observances which they 
trembled to break. Unlike the Latin and Greek, there 
was no spell dangerously working upon their thought of 
the future. That entered a new path ; they were free in it. 
They loved liberty ; they dared to preserve it. Step by 
step their advance was steady through the convulsions of 



Timeliness of Protestantism. 207 

the twelfth century, the intellectual awakening of the four- 
teenth, the literary revival of the fifteenth, onward to 
the great spiritual movement at the opening of which we 
stand. It is a moral rather than a civil epoch at which 
we have now arrived. 

It were well if we were able to note the policy which 
moved the age, the play of its ambitions, and the spirit 
of its enterprise, but the character of our work will not 
permit us to do this, It may be well to add to what we 
have already said, however, that the great movement of 
the Reformation was not possible at any earlier period in 
the history of Christendom. There must be, to insure 
its success, a stable basis in the heart of some nation of 
great intellectual attainment, and a strong courageous 
determination. A careful survey of later history would 
teach us that the Reformation would have been shorn of 
much of its power if it had been delayed even a century 
beyond its actual date. Great plans are projected on a 
small scrap of paper, and yet all the divergence lines 
which compass that plan are of infinite extent, and everj^ 
calculation would hold good if the plan were drawn upon 
the face of the continent. The larger the plan, the more 
slowly it be carried into execution. The movements of 
civilization are all agreed to some plan, and so the 
Reformation was a part of the machinery by which the 
civilization of the nineteenth century became a fact. It 
was one of the wheels of the mechanism revolving on the 
pivot of a great movement coming into prominence just 
at its appointed time, filling its place, acting its part, 
and then disappearing as the other wheels come forward 
to take their place in the great movement. It required 
the Protestantism of the sixteenth century to preserve 
the intellectual awakening of the twelfth, and the literary 
revival of the fifteenth. Without Protestantism it is un- 



208 Young People's History of Protestantism 

questionable that the mental torpor and the sensuousness 
of the religion of the Turk would at this da}* have 
reigned throughout Europe. 

Christendom at the beginning of the sixteenth century 
had two things before it for choice, — either to accept the 
Gospel and maintain the liberty implied by the same in 
spite of scaffold or stake, or to submit supinely to the 
gloomy rule of an universal Spanish monarchy, to be 
succeeded, perhaps, by the still gloomier despotism of 
the Moslem. 

At the time that the Protestant principle was about to ap- 
pear, the forces of Medievalism had attained a grandeur 
and power to which they had been strangers for ages. 

The grand elements of these forces may be summed 
up briefly, — they were vested in the Empire, and the 
Papacy which dominated the Empire. The power of the 
emperors, chosen as they were by an electoral diet, com- 
posed of both spiritual and temporal potentates, jealous 
of their rights, and guarding the same by compacts or 
capitulations, had been for centuries a mere shadow, and 
this shadow needed the confirmation and approval of the 
Holy See — the real and overmastering power in Chris- 
tendom. After Charles V. had been chosen emperor, 
the imperial power was strengthened by the substantial 
addition of Spain to the Empire. Dependent on the 
mighty Iberian monarchy were the fertile plains and 
vine-clad fields of Sicily and Naples ; the vast garden of 
Lombardy, dotted with splendid cities, and teeming with 
plantations of olive and mulberiy, and corn, and oil, and 
silk ; the Low Countries, intersected by canals, their rich 
meadows, pasturing thousands of cattle, their stately 
cities, filled with an industrious commercial and art-lov- 
ing population. Ample provinces in the New World, 



The Legate-a-latere. 20Q 

added to the extent of that mighty State, for which 
Europe seemed too small. 

This vast empire was served by numerous hardy and 
well-disciplined armies, and mighty fleets, led by com- 
manders of consummate ability. When the master of 
all these men and lands added, as did Charles V. the im- 
perial diadem to all his other dignities, his glory would 
seem to have been consummated. Yet, so boundless 
was his ambition, that he meditated and laid schemes for 
extending his huge dominions. Never, since Roman 
power was at its zenith, had the liberties of the world 
been in such imminent danger of extinction. Literature 
and art had become the allies of this vast despotism, whose 
shadow was projecting itself further and further over 
Western Europe, and were forging fetters for the men 
they had promised to emancipate. Under the Jugger- 
naut car of this stupendous tyranny the cause of liberty 
would have been crushed had not Protestantism arrived 
at that crisis. 

From the summit of the European edifice of States, as 
it existed at the beginning of the sixteenth century, we 
can look upward and behold a higher power, overlying 
and dominating everything — that of the Papacy. No 
historical retrospect would be complete that overlooked 
this spiritual monarchy, or the means by which it exer- 
cised so potent an influence over the affairs of Christen- 
dom. We will therefore take a cursory glance at the 
more important of these means. 

First of all comes the '-' legate- a-latere," an officer, 
whose name signifies ' ' an ambassador from the Pope's 
side." This functionary was sent into all countries, rep- 
resenting the Pope and clothed with full papal power, 
not to mediate but to govern. He entered a country, 
set up his court, tried causes and pronounced judgment 



21 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

in the Pope's name, acknowledging neither the sovereign 
nor the law of the land. He claimed arbitership in all 
questions of divorce, which naturally involved civil 
issues, such as the succession to landed estates, and 
other forms of propert}'. He could impose taxes, he 
made himself the arbiter of peace and war. Neither the 
courts of a country nor its sovereign could grant redress 
against the judgment of a legate. The aggrieved person 
was obliged to go to Rome in person, and lay his case 
before the Pontiff himself. 

The "interdict" was used by the papal ambassadors to 
maintain and enforce his vast authority. When a mon- 
arch proved obdurate, the legate unsheathed this sword 
against him. The clergy throughout the length and 
breadth of the kingdom immediately desisted from the 
celebration of the ordinances of religion, thus making all 
the subjects partners with their sovereign in this spiritual 
but dreadful infliction. In an age which knew no salva- 
tion except through the priesthood, and no grace except 
through the Sacraments, the interdict was a weapon of 
terrifying power, and never failed to gain its end, for 
the people sharing the punishment of their ruler, mur- 
mured against this injustice, and sometimes broke out 
into open rebellion, and the Prince, retaining but a shadow 
of the power filched from him by the Church, finally found 
himself obliged either to face insurrection or to succumb 
to spiritual authority. 

Another contrivance by which the Papacy under- 
mined the power of kings was the Concordat, an agree- 
ment concluded between the Pontiff and the poten- 
tates of Christendom. These compacts varied in their 
details, but their general tenor was to the effect that the 
papal power was supreme over the princes with whom it 
condescended to treat. They were bound by them to 



Compacts Between Church and State. 211 

profess no religion, open no school, nor allow any branch 
of knowledge to be taught within their realms, without 
the approval of the Pontiff. They were obliged also to 
keep the gates of their dominions open to an}' legates, or 
other deputies that the Pope might deem fit to sead, to ac- 
cept his bulls and briefs as laws, although they might be 
in direct conflict with the privileges and institutions of the 
country. In return, the advantages secured the con- 
tracting parties were of the most meagre description, 
and, as a rule, were only continued as long as it lay m 
the interest of the Church to do so. Thus was the 
Prince bound down in vassalage, and his people in polit- 
ical and religious serfdom. The Pope had the power of 
appointing bishops throughout the Empire, which placed 
in his hands the better half of the secular government of its 
kingdoms. This hierarchy, of which each member had 
sworn implicit obedience to the Pope was a body, power- 
ful by its union, its intelligence, and its fidelity to the 
spiritual lord of Christendom, and thus formed another 
redoubtable instrumentality in compassing his ends. Ad- 
ministering the canon law of Rome in secular matters, 
the bishops wielded a temporal and spiritual authority 
over every person in the realm, overriding and dominat- 
ing the law of the land itself. 

There was a multitude of other expedients, besides 
those we have mentioned, for maintaining the supremacy 
of the Church. The Confessional, for instance, was to 
the Papist the tribunal of God, where he trembling con- 
fided his innermost thoughts and purposes to him, whom 
he believed to be God's representative on earth. It af- 
forded, moreover, unrivalled facilities for sowing the 
seeds of rebellion. Here the priest sat unseen, digging 
hour by hour, and day after day the mine beneath the 
Prince he had marked out for ruin, unsuspected by the 



212 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

latter until he suddenly found himself hurled from his 
seat. Then there was the infamous traffic in pardons 
from sin, called dispensations and indulgences. Rome 
sent the venders of these wares into all countries, and 
heaped up immense stores of wealth through their efforts. 
And whatever fell into the hands of the Church she re- 
tained with a grip as inexorable as death itself. Her 
property was beyond the reach of the law : this was the 
crowning evil. The estates of the nobility could be 
dealt with by the civil tribunals, if so overgrown as to be 
dangerous to the public good. But it was the fate of the 
church property to grow constantly, and with it the pride 
and arrogance of its owners. Xo remedy could be ap- 
plied to check the harmful employment of this wealth, 
though it sapped the resources of a state, and under- 
mined the industry of a nation. Well might G-oethe in 
his "Faust" put these words into the mouth of Mephis- 
topheles : 

" The Church hath a good stomach; 
She hath swallowed whole countries 
And never overloaded it." 

B} T such expedients did Rome exercise her sway over 
all the countries of Christendom. ''The Pope's jurisdic- 
tion," said a Franciscan, " is universal, embracing the 
whole world, its temporalities, as well as its spirituali- 
ties." And behind these expedients stood the fiction of 
the Infallibility — a reality to the Romanist — which en- 
abled the Pope from his centre to rally around him, as 
one man, the nations of Western Europe, and permitted 
him to exercise a power, which for extent and duration 
in vain seeks its equal in the annals of the world. 

Such was the constitution of Christendom, as fully 
developed at the end of the fifteenth, and beginning of 
the sixteenth, century. " The Church of Rome," said 



Protestantism a Divine Force. 213 

Adam Smith, u is the most formidable combination that 
was ever formed against the authority and security of 
civil government, as well as against the reason, liberty, 
and happiness of mankind." Against such a power the 
earthly forces of reason and argument, philosophy and 
literature, skepticism and raillery would have rebelled in 
vain. A Divine force was necessaiy to overthrow it, 
and that force took the shape of Protestantism. 



CHAPTER XV. 

RECEPTION OF A PURER FAITH. 

According to geologists this earth of ours experienced 
many mighty changes of heat and cold, light and dark- 
ness, tempest and calm, before the ceaseless energy of 
nature had brought it to a state of order, and a carpet of 
verdure, waving trees and mighty mountains greeted the 
first human occupant whose abode it was to be. 

So it was, when the world was undergoing the changes 
that were to fit it for the reception of a purer faith and 
a higher freedom. A period of unprecedented torpor and 
darkness stretched from the fall of the Western Empire 
to the eleventh century. All progress seemed dead, 
and many men believed that the world's best days were 
over ; that it had reached and passed the fullness of its 
growth, and that the year One Thousand would usher in 
the Day of Judgment. The}' were wrong. The world's 
brightest days were yet to come, though at the cost of 
terrible political and moral tempests. 

The hurricane of the Crusades first broke the ice of 
the world's long winter. Commerce and art, poetry and 
philosophy re-appeared, the harbingers of an intellectual 
spring-time. By-and-.by came the printing press, and 
shortly after that the capture of Constantinople scattered 
the literaiy treasures of antiquity over the West, the 
seeds of new and vigorous thought. Next came the 
mariners' compass and the discovery 01 the New World 



The Turn of the Tide. 217 

Man beheld magnificent continents and Arcadian islands 
rising out of the sea in the dim and distant West ; the 
world seemed expanding around them and awakened in 
them the desire of participating in its new career. Com- 
pared with the thick night of the eleventh century, the 
new light must have seemed to mankind like the full 
opening of the day. But, save a feeble dawn in the 
skies of England and Bohemia, which gathering clouds 
threatened to extinguish, the true light had not }*et risen. 
Something better even than philosophy and poetry, an- 
cient learning and modern discoveries was needed to 
make it day. It was necessaiy that God's own breath 
should vivif}^ the world, if it was to continue to live. 
When the Bible, so long buried under the trumpery of 
mediaeval scholasticism, was translated into the various 
languages of Europe, this spirit again began to move over 
society. The light of heaven broke anew upon the world. 

On the foremost thrones of Europe sat three mighty 
princes ; a fourth might be added in the potentate of the 
Vatican, in some points the least, but in others the great- 
est of the four. A sort of balance of power was estab- 
lished by the conflicting interests and passions of these 
men, which prevented the tempests of war from ravaging 
Christendom. The sword rested in its sheath, and com- 
parative quiet reigned on all sides, from the Carpathians 
to the Atlantic. Protestantism was about to break the 
stillness with the blessed tidings of the recovery of the 
long lost Gospels. It was now that Luther was born. 

His father, John Luther, was descended from an old 
family, but losing his patrimonial inheritance, he was 
obliged to depend on his daily labor for subsistence. He 
was a man of superior qualities of mind, and highly re- 
spected, though following the humble trade of a miner. 

This man married a maiden from the village of Neu- 



2i8 Young People's History of Protesta?itism, 

stadt, Margaret Lindermann by name. At the time of 
their marriage, they were living at Eisenach, a romantic 
Thuringian town at the foot of the Wartburg, but soon 
after removed to Eisleber. 

If John Luther was a man of exceptional intellectual 
strength, good sense and upright dealings, his wife Mar- 
garet, though but a peasant by birth, was no less dis- 
tinguished by her purity of character and her exalted 
piety. To this excellent couple, both much given to 
prayer, there was born a son on the 10th of November, 
1483. He was their first born, and as the 10th of Novem- 
ber is St. Martin's Eve, they named their son Martin. 
In a miner's cot was ushered into the world the future 
Reformer. 

Suppose the Emperor or the Pope had looked in on 
that humble abode, and some one had told them that the 
new-born babe, slumbering so peacefully, was destined 
one day to shake the very foundations of European socie- 
ty, how they would have laughed in disdain ! And yet 
the miner's child was to become mightier than Pope, 
mightier than Emperor. One Luther was stronger than 
all the cardinals of Rome, than all the legions of the Em- 
pire. And as at the birth of a still greater Child, it 
might have been said : "He hath scattered the proud in 
the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the 
mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low de- 
gree." 

The Luther family removed to Mansfeld when Martin 
was six years of age, and the mines of that place prov- 
ing lucrative, John Luther began to prosper in a worldly 
wa} r . The owner of two furnaces, and a member of the 
Town Council, he was now able to gratify his thirst for 
knowledge by occasionally entertaining the more learned 
among the clergy of his neighborhood. The conversa- 



Early School Days of Luther. 219 

tion thus heard at his father's house could hardly have 
failed to influence the mind of such a bright boy as wau 
Martin Luther. 

Very pleasant was the home of the child at Mansfeld. 
Happy, strong, and buoyant of spirits, his clear voice 
rang above those of his playmates, as they frolicked on 
the banks of the Wipper. But there was a cross in his 
lot even then ; his father, with all his excellence of heart, 
was a stern disciplinarian, who let no fault of his son's 
go unpunished, and not unfrequentl} r the chastisement 
was in excess of the fault. A less elastic nature would 
have relapsed into sullenness or hardened into wicked- 
ness under such severnVy ; but, with a nature of strong- 
impulses like Luther's, this severity simply served to 
check the tendency to self-indulgence, so apt to be the 
accompaniment of fine sensibilities, and to attemper his 
character by imparting to it that element of hardness so 
necessary in the greater trials that were in store for him. 

Luther was taught the rudiments of knowledge under 
the domestic roof, and later on was sent to the school at 
Mansfeld. He was yet "a little one," to use Melanch- 
thon's phrase ; so young, indeed, that his father some- 
times carried him to school on his shoulders. The 
strong memor}*, clear sense, and diligence in stud}' 
evinced by the boy, cheered John Luther in his labors, 
for his dearest wish was that his son might one day be a 
scholar. 

At the age of fourteen years (1497) Martin was sent to 
the Franciscan School at Magdeburg. Here he remained 
one year, suffering punishments and privations far ex- 
ceeding those of his childhood ; for, besides receiving 
frequent floggings (he mentions having one day endured 
fifteen) , he was obliged, in accordance with a custom 
prevailing until quite recently in German towns, to go 



220 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

singing from door to door, with troops of his fellow stu- 
dents, for his bread. Instruction was gratuitous, but 
bread had to be either bought or begged. 

Though John Luther's means had increased, his family 
had grown proportionately, and there was little to spare. 
He, therefore, sent Martin to a school in Eisenach, 
where, having relatives, it was hoped he would have less 
difficult}' in supporting himself. This hope was not 
realized, and the young student was still obliged to earn 
his meals by singing in the streets. 

One day his solicitations had been all in vain, and 
empt} r of stomach, he stood musing over his probable 
destin}^ ; his heart sank at the thought that he could not 
endure these privations much longer, and would be 
obliged to abandon his studies. But when the night is 
darkest, the dawn is nearest. 

As he stood absorbed in the melancholy thoughts, a 
door opened, and a voice bade him enter. He turned 
and beheld Ursula Cotta, wife of Conrad Cotta, one of 
the prominent burghers of Eisenach. The young scholar 
was not strange to her, for she had noticed the sweetness 
of his voice, as he sang in the church choir on Sundays, 
and had heard the harsh words with which he had been 
driven from other doors. Her womanly heart opened to- 
wards the poor child ; not only did she appease his hun- 
ger for the time, but her husband, won by the attractive 
exterior and frank bearing of the boy, made him come 
and live with them. 

It was thus that Luther found a home, and could pur- 
sue his studies with renewed ardor. Instead of singing 
in the streets for his bread, his sweet voice now cheered 
the home of the Cottas ; for Ursula was very fond of 
music, and young Martin loved to sing for his benefac- 
tress, often accompanying himself on the lute. He never 




«i«||^^ 

JWi 




YOUNG LUTHER SINGING 
IN THE STREETS. 



Luther at Erfurt. 223 

in after life forgot the happy days he spent at Eisenach 
with the good Frau Cotta. The incident also strength- 
ened his trust in God ; when perils beset him, he remem- 
bered how Providence had come to his aid, as he stood 
despairing in the street. 

After a stay of nearly two years at the school of Eise- 
nach, studying Latin, rhetoric, and verse-making, Lu- 
ther entered the University of Erfurt, in his eighteenth 
year (1501). His father, who wished him to embrace the 
study of law as leading to high civic honors, toiled harder 
than ever, in order that no material cares might hamper 
his son's ambition. In the picturesque old Thuringian 
town, whose grouped spires and towers form a 
unique architectural combination, the youth, thirsting for 
knowledge, found new studies that fascinated him. The 
scholastic philosophy of the age, as embodied in the 
teachings of Aristotle, Aquinas, Duns, Occum and 
others, had a special charm for him. Though radically 
hostile to the true method of acquiring knowledge after- 
wards laid open by Bacon, it had some redeeming points, 
by which Luther profited ; for he owed to it that logical 
and rapid habit of thought, that dialectic skill and that 
nicety of fence, which were to prove themselves power- 
ful weapons in the terrible combats of his after-life. 
From these severer studies he occasionally turned aside 
to regale himself by reading the orations of Cicero and 
the lays of Virgil. He progressed rapidly, and became 
the foremost scholar at the University of Erfurt. 

At the close of the second year of his stay an event 
occurred that changed the whole future life of the young 
student. Fond of books, like his father, he delved day 
by day in the library of the University. One day he 
comes across a volume unlike all the others, opens it, 
and to his surprise finds it to be a Bible — the Vulgate, 



224 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

or Latin translation of the Scriptures by Jerome. It 
was a revelation to him ; lor he had imagined that those 
portions which the Church prescribed to be read in pub- 
lic on Sundays and Saint's days, were the whole Bible. 
But now, to his astonishment and joy, he found whole 
books and epistles of which he had never heard before. 
And it so chanced that he began with the story of Sam- 
uel, dedicated to the Lord from childhood by his 
mother, growing up in the temple and becoming the 
witness of the wickedness of Eli's sons, the priests of the 
Lord, who made the people to transgress and to abhor 
the offering of the Lord — a most suggestive image of his 
own times. 

Luther now bent his faculties, strengthened and deep- 
ened by other books, on the examination and incessant 
stud}' of the Scriptures. A change was passing upon 
and new powers were awakening within him ; his old 
self was passing away, and a new one was forming in 
its place. "From that moment began those struggles in 
his soul which were destined never to cease till they is- 
sued, not merely in a new man, but a new age — a new 
Europe. Out of the Bible at Oxford came the first dawn 
of the Reformation ; out of this old Bible at Erfurt came 
its second morning." 

In this year (1503), Luther took his first academic de- 
gree, as Bachelor in Arts. But this honor had nearly 
cost him his life ; for close application to study had 
brought on a dangerous sickness, which kept him at 
death's door for a time. During this affliction an old 
priest who visited him uttered these prophetic words : 
•'My bachelor, take heart ; you shall not die of this sick 
ness ; God will make you one who will confort many 
others. On those whom he loves, he lays his holy cross, 
and they who bear it patiently learn wisdom." Luther 



Luther's Reawakening of Conscience. 225 

recovered, and the fulfilment of this prediction impressed 
him ever after that his life had been spared for some 
special purpose. Erfurt was then the most celebrated 
University in all Germany, and when two years later 
Luther became Master of Arts, or Doctor of Philosophy, 
the laureation of its first scholar was celebrated by a 
torchlight procession. Ranking thus highly in public es- 
timation, he saw that the road to civic honors was 
open to him ; he therefore devoted himself to the bar, 
according to his father's desire, and began to give public 
lectures on the physics and ethics of Aristotle. For a 
time it seemed as if the seed of the Holy Scriptures was 
to perish in the soil of pagan philosophy, but God willed 
it otherwise. 

Two incidents now befell him that reawakened the 
higher aspirations which were beginning to be effaced by 
worldly success. One morning he was told that his 
friend Alexius had been overtaken by a sudden and vio- 
lent death. Some accounts say that he was struck by 
lightning ; others that he was killed in a duel. Be that 
as it may, the news stunned Luther. To see his com- 
panion thus fall at his side, as it were, once again roused 
the slumbering conscience. 

Soon after that, returning from a visit to his parents 
at Mansfeld, he had neared the gates of Erfurt when a 
storm suddenly gathered overhead and it began to 
thunder and lighten in an awful manner ; from a black 
cloud a bolt fell at his feet. Some accounts say that he 
was thrown down. The Great Judge, he thought, had 
descended in this cloud, and he lay momentarily expect- 
ing death. In his terror he vowed, that should God 
spare him, he would devote his life to his service. Then 
did the lightnings cease, and the thunders rolled away, 
and rising from the ground Luther pursued his journey 



226 Young People's History of P?-otestantism. 

with solemn steps, and soon entered the gates of Erfurt. 
To devote one's life to God admitted of but one con- 
struction in that age : it implied the donning of a monk's 
hood. It must have been a terrible sacrifice to a man 
like Luther, so capable of enjoying the delights of life, 
and with a brilliant career opening before him. But it 
was theonry wa} T of quieting the throes of conscience then 
known, and Luther manfully accepts it. Once more 
he invites his friends to a frugal supper, entertains them 
with music and converses with apparent cheerfulness. 
The party breaks up ; farewells are spoken, and on the 
17th of August, 1505, Luther walks straight to the 
Augustinian convent, knocks at the gate, and is ad- 
mitted. Within the peaceful walls of the monastery he 
hopes to find that higher peace which the world seems to 
deny him. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



MARTIN LUTHER. 



When the citizens of Eisenach heard on the morrow 
that Luther had taken the cowl, they were rilled with 
surprise and regret that such a promising talent should 
bury itself from the world. His friends and many mem- 
bers of the University, assembling at the gates of the 
monastery, waited two whole days in the hope of seeing 
him and persuading him to retrace the foolish step taken 
in a moment of exaltation or caprice. But though he 
knew of the anxious gathering outside, he came not forth, 
nor did he see any one for a month. 

Great was the rage and consternation of his father 
when the news reached Mansfeld. Was it for this that 
he had toiled and striven to educate his son, whom he 
already pictured in imagination discharging the highest 
duties, and wearing the highest dignities of the State? 
In his disappointment he threatened to disinherit Martin, 
and it is related that, obtaining an interview with him at 
the convent gate, he asked him sharply : "How can a son 
do right in disobeying the counsel of his parents ?" And 
on another occasion, when his son related to him the epi- 
sode of the thunder-storm: "Take care," he replied, 
"lest you have been imposed upon by an illusion of the 
Devil." 

Luther, who now had changed his name to Augustine, 
did not find that rest and peace which he had longed and 



228 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

hoped for. Seeking life, not from Christ, but from 
monastic holiness, he was not long in discovering that 
he had carried his great burden with him into the monas- 
tery. Whither should he flee if the place which he 
considered holiest on earth did not free him from the 
apprehensions of wrath which haunted him in the world ? 
His inward torments grew more exquisite day by day. 
The future Reformer of Christendom was learning the 
bitter first lesson that it is impossible by works of self- 
righteousness to find relief from an awakened conscience 
and the burden of unpardoned guilt — that burden from 
which he was to be the instrument of delivering Christen- 
dom. 

Very different was the life he led in the convent of the 
Augustine's from the pleasant existence of the Universi- 
ty. The ignorant and sensual monks, while well aware 
that the convent could not but be honored by the acces- 
sion of the brilliant scholar, felt themselves put into the 
shade by him. Besides, his knowledge could not replen- 
ish their wine-cellar nor their larder, and they took a 
spiteful delight in putting the meanest offices on him. 
Without complaining, Luther acted as porter, opened 
and shut the gates, wound up the clock, swept the 
church, cleaned the cells, and when these tasks were 
done, instead of allowing him to go to his books, the 
monks would say, "Come, come'." saccum per nackum* 
— "get ready your wallet ; away through the town, and 
get us something to eat." For they argued that a 
monk could render himself more useful to his cloister by 
begging bread, corn, fish, eggs, meat, and money, than 
by studying. Bitterly as Luther's refined mind was hu- 
miliated by this, he accepted it as part of the sacrifice 
required from him, and humbly traversed the same 

*A Latinized corruption of the German "Nacken" — shoulders. 




ERFURT CATHEDRAL. 



Luther's Self- Torture. 2ji 

streets as a mendicant which he had formerly trod as an 
honored doctor, often begging an alms from the friends 
and acquaintances of his happier da}*s. 

Debarred from access to his beloved books during the 
day by the drudgery allotted him, Luther now spent the 
greater part of his nights in study, instead of taking a 
much-needed rest, or joining in the carousals of his 
brother monks. The writings of St. Augustine, in which 
he found doctrines and experiences that touched a re- 
sponsive chord in his own soul, and the works of the 
scholastic theologians, Gerson and Occam, in which the 
temporal power of the Pope was antagonized, were his 
favorite reading. But still greater was the store he set 
on another book — a copy of the Bible which he found 
chained in the chapel of the convent, where he sometimes 
spent whole daj-s in pondering over a single verse or ex- 
pression. He now also undertook the stud}* of Greek 
and Hebrew, so that he might read the Scriptures in the 
original text, and sometimes forgot to repeat his daily 
praj^ars for weeks together in the ardor of this pursuit. 
Then, remembering, his conscience would not allow him 
to eat nor sleep till he had made good all omissions. 
At one such occasion he hardly closed his eyes for seven 
weeks. What with his daily drudgery, his studies, pen- 
ances, fasts and macerations, and the inward fire that 
was consuming him, he became more like a corpse than 
a living person, and sometimes fell on the floor of his 
cell from sheer exhaustion. "One morning, the door of 
his cell not being opened as usual, the brethren became 
alarmed. They knocked ; there was no reply. The 
door was burst in, and poor Fra Martin was found 
stretched on the ground in a state of ecstac}*, scarcely 
breathing, wellnigh dead. A monk took his flute, and 
gently playing upon it one of the airs that Luther loved, 



2J2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

brought him gradually back to himself." So near to ex- 
tinction at that time was the spark which was destined 
to light the fires of religious liberty all over Europe. 

Peace did not come to Luther as a consequence of the 
migmVy throes of his spirit and the mortification of his 
flesh ; he was to drain to the very lees the bitter chalice 
of self-torture, both mental and physical, without any 
compensating result. In a letter written in after-life to 
Duke George of Saxony, he sa3^s : "If ever monk could 
obtain heaven b}^ his monkish works, I should certainly 
have been entitled to it. . . . If I had continued 
much longer, I should have carried my mortifications 
even to death, b}^ means of my watchings, prayers, read- 
ings and other labors." 

So his anguish continued, nay, increased even. The 
redemption wrought by the Son of Man had not yet been 
revealed to him. Rest was impossible so long as the 
Divine mercy had not entered his soul. As he glided 
from cell to cell, uttering loud groans, a picture of ema- 
ciated woe, the other monks stood aghast in terror, be- 
lieving him possessed by the Evil One. In vain he 
sought relief from his confessor, an aged monk. " 'Save 
me in Thy righteousness' — what does that mean?" he 
asked. "I can see how God can condemn me in his 
righteousness, but how can he save me in his righteous- 
ness ?" But that question his father confessor could not 
answer. 

Still Luther persevered in the face almost of hope 
itself in his search after the truth. Perhaps, when he 
found all his monastic works so futile in attaining that 
peace of soul for which he longed, his study of the 
Scriptures may have let in some rays of light, for is it 
not written : "If thou criest after wisdom, if thou liftest 
up thy voice for understanding, then shalt thou find the 



Staupitz' Visit. 233 

fear of the Lord, and understand the knowledge of thy 
God." 

In the agony of Luther we see but a reflection of the 
troubles and doubts that were agitating Christendom. 
But at the darkest hour there came to him a man who 
was to begin the work of striking down the spiritual 
fetters that were enthralling his soul, and of raising him 
up as a deliverer of mankind from ghostly bondage. 
The Great Euler had heard the cries of a wretched soul, 
and chose Staupitz, then Yicar General of the Augus- 
tines of Germany, as the instrument to convey his answer. 

John Staupitz was a man of exceptional excellence 
among the dignitaries of the Church, by reason of his 
eminent piety and lovable character. He saw the errors 
and vices of the age, and deplored their pernicious influ- 
ence on the Church, but was not cast in the heroic mould 
which shapes reformers. Yet he was to be of signal 
service to the great Reformer himself. 

About this time the Vicar General happened to be on 
a tour of visitation among the Augustinian convents of 
Germany, and in due time his way led him to the mon- 
astery at Erfurt. He at once singled out the young 
monk, whose brow seemed marked with a great sorrow, 
and whose emaciated frame betokened the wrestlings of 
his spirit. He called to him this man, in whom he imag- 
ined he saw the traces of conflicts similar to, though 
greater, than those he had himself experienced, and spoke 
to him in words of kindness. These unwonted accents 
fell like balm on Luther's soul 

In the secrecy of his cell he unfolded the tale of his 
mental struggles to the kind-hearted prelate. He 
detailed his temptations, his vows a thousand times 
broken, his loathing of himself, and the terror he felt at 
the thought of God's holiness. To him the Almighty 



2j6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

was a stern judge in whose verdicts mercy had no place. 

The good Staupitz saw that the monk was transacting 
with God just as if no cross had been set up on Calvary. 
"Why do you torture yourself with these thoughts?" 
said he ; "Look at the wounds of Christ; look at the 
blood Christ shed for you ; it is there the grace of God 
will appear to 3 r ou." 

"I cannot and dare not come to God," was the sub- 
stance of Luther's answer, "till I am a better man; I 
have not repented sufficiently yet." "Abetter man!" 
was the purport of the Vicar General's rejoinder, 
"Christ came to save not good men, but sinners. Love 
God, and you will have repented. There is no real repent- 
ance that does not begin in the love of God ; and there 
is no love to God that does not take its rise in an appre- 
hension of that mercy which offers to sinners freedom 
from sin through the blood of Christ. 'Faith in the mer- 
cies of God!' This is the star that goeth before the 
face of Repentance, the pillar of fire that guideth her in 
the night of her sorrow and giveth her light, and showeth 
her the way to the throne of God." 

These wise words illuminated the darkness in Luther's 
soul, and poured a healing oil on his bruised spirit. 
Staupitz, before his departure, presented Luther with a 
Bible, which the latter accepted with great joy. "Let 
the study of the Scriptures be 3'our favorite occupation ! 
was the parting injunction of the Vicar General ; and 
most faithfully was it obeyed. 

The burden that had oppressed Luther's soul was too 
heavy, however, to be shaken off b} T one man. After 
Staupitz's departure he once more relapsed into those 
fits of doubt, despondency and fear, that had so sorely 
harassed him formerly, though they were less severe than 
before. It was on a bed of sickness that his deliverance 



A Ray of Light. 237 

was to be completed, and by a very humble instrument. 
He was tying on the point of death ; an aged brother- 
monk came to his bedside and began to recite with great 
fervor the Apostle's Creed . ' 'I believe in the forgiveness 
of sins." Feebly Luther echoed his words : "I believe 
in the forgiveness of sins." "Nay," said the monk, "you 
are to believe not merely in the forgiveness of David's 
sins, and of Peter's sins, you must believe in the for- 
giveness of your own sins." These words lifted the vail 
from Luther's soul, — the Gospel meant not as the Rom- 
ish Church taught, the payment of sins, but the forgive- 
ness of sins. The forgiveness of sins! Blessed words ! 
in that hour they hurled the principle of Popery from its 
seat in Luther's soul. Henceforth, he sought his salva- 
tion, not in himself or in the church, but in the redeem- 
ing mercy of God as proclaimed by Christ the Saviour. 
With the restoration of the health of his mind came 
that of his body, and he soon rose from his bed of sick- 
ness. 

Luther's combat with the powers of darkness, and his 
triumph over them in this cell, was really grander than 
that which he later on gained at the Diet of Worms over 
earthly might ; for here he gains eternal life, if triumph- 
ant ; but is doomed to eternal death if defeated. The 
powers of earth at the worst can but destroy the body ; 
they are powerless against an indomitable soul. Within 
the walls of the cloister at Erfurt died Martin Luther 
the monk, to give birth to Martin Luther the Christian. 
And with him the Reformation in Germauy was born, 

For ages men had sought to rid themselves of the bur- 
den of the consciousness of sin by payment. A church 
had arisen which practically ignored the article of the 
"forgiveness of sins" in her creed. 
Salvation, which had at first been offered freely, was made 



2j8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

a marketable commodity by the Church, to be paid for 
in austerities, penances, good works, or money, accord- 
ing to the convenience or means of the buyer. Clois- 
ters, churches, and confessionals, were erected to facili- 
tate this traffic ; one half of Christendom groaned in pov- 
erty, while the other revelled in luxury. When the 
principle of payment had been carried to its extreme, 
the Church fell. Men found that no deliverence came 
from the payment ; when the free pardon of the old Gos- 
pel was once more proclaimed, they eagerly listed and ac- 
cepted the joyful tidings. The night of spiritual bond- 
age was lifting from the earth, and the bright rays of 
the Day of Jubilee were gilding the mountain tops. 
Oh, joyful morning ! 

On a Sunday, May 2nd, 1507, Luther was ordained 
to the priesthood by Jerome, Bishop of Brandenburg. 
His father was present at the ceremony, attended by 
twenty horsemen. In a letter of invitation to John 
Brown, Vicar of Eisenach, Luther portra}-s the feelings 
with which he entered on his new office. "Since the 
glorious God, holy in all his works, has designed to ex- 
alt me, who am a wretched man and every way an un- 
worthy sinner, so eminently, and to call me to his sub- 
lime ministry by his sole and most liberal mercy, may I 
be grateful for the magnificence of such Divine goodness 
(as far as dust and ashes may), and duly discharge the 
office committed to me." 

Luther, who at the time of his ordination had been 
two years in the monastery, was called from his cell to a 
wider sphere a twelvemonth later. Frederick the Wise, 
Elector of Saxony, was then looking around for men of 
capability to fill the chairs of the University of Witten- 
berg, founded by him in 1502. On the recommendation 
of Staupitz, an electoral invitation was sent to Luther, 



Teaches at the University of Wittenberg. 241 

which he accepted. Bidding the convent a final farewell, 
though not as yet the cowl, he now goes forth, rich in 
human learning and Divine experience, to teach "dialec- 
tics and physics"— in other words, the scholastic philoso- 
phy — in the newly-founded seat of learning. 

Though he had not long before revelled in this branch 
of knowledge, it was now distasteful to him, since he 
had drunk of the "old wine" of the Apostles. He longed 
to unseal the waters of the Fountain of Life to his stu- 
dents, yet attended assiduously to his uncongenial work. 
This proved of great use to him in the end, by complet- 
ing his own preparation for fighting and overthrowing the 
Aristotelian philosophy. He soon found his right place, 
however, when his department was changed from "phi- 
losophy" to ' 'theology. " 

Selecting for exposition the Epistle to the Romans, he 
passed from the cell to the class-room, and spoke as no 
teacher in Christendom had spoken for ages. It was no 
rhetorician, vain of wordy ornament, no schoolman de- 
veloping mental conceits, as ingenious as they were use- 
less. Luther spoke like one who had reached the light 
of eternal truth at the cost of tears, groans and agonies 
of soul in the darkness of the Gehenna of sin. And in 
the proclaiming of that truth lay the secret of his power. 
The numbers of the young men crowding around him in- 
creased from day to day ; professors and rectors sat at 
his feet ; the fame of the university went forth to other 
lands, and students flocked from foreign countries to 
drink of the living waters so long pent up behind the 
sluice-gates of dogma. 

Staupitz, who observed the progress made by his 
young protege with peculiar pleasure, now proposed to 
Luther that he should preach in public. Why should he 
confine his light to the walls of the university, when all 



242 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

around "Wittenberg and in all the towns of Germany 
there were multitudes groping in darkness ? But Luther 
shrank back from so weighty a responsibilit}'. "In less 
than six months," said he, "I shall be in my grave." 
But Staupitz, who knew the young monk better than he 
knew himself, continued to urge him, until he at last 
consented. 

In an old wooden church, standing in the middle of 
the public square of "Wittenberg, Luther opened his pub- 
lic ministry. A pulpit of boards was raised three feet 
above the floor of the tottering building. In this rude 
shed , which was but thirty feet long by twenty wide, the 
Gospel was proclaimed to the common people for the 
first time after the silence of centuries. '-This build- 
ing," says a writer, "ma}' well be compared to the stable 
in which Christ was born. It was in this wretched en- 
closure that God willed, so to speak, that his well beloved 
Son should be born a second time. Among those thou- 
sands of cathedrals and parish churches with which the 
world is filled, there was not one at that time which God 
chose for the glorious preaching of eternal life." 

The effect of Luther's eloquence was not less potent 
on his auditors in the little wooden chapel than it had 
been on his more cultured hearers at the university. 
And small wonder ! for, before his day, preaching had 
been whol'y abandoned to the Mendicant friars. Coarse 
gibes, incredible legends and tales, and the lives and 
miracles of the saints formed the staple of the discourses 
of these ignorant and low-minded men. But here was a 
man who spoke not as the friars, but with kindling e}*e and 
thrilling tone proclaimed pardon and heaven, not as in- 
direct gifts from the priests, but as direct from God. 
Men marvelled at these tidings — so new, so strange, and 
yet so refreshing and welcome. 



Powerful Preaching. 



243 



Crowds flocked in from the surrounding cities to listen 
to the impassioned preacher, whose words, as said Me- 
lanchthon, u had their birth-place, not on his lips, but in 
his soul." The little wooden chapel was wholly inade- 
quate to accommodate the crowds of listeners. The 
Town Council of Wittenberg now appointed Luther as 
their preacher, and placed the parish church at his dis- 
posal. Before this larger audience his eloquence burst 
forth in new power. Day by day the numbers of those 
who hung on his lips increased. The Reformation has 
now fairly started on its way, to go on with increas- 
ing might, in spite of popes or emperors, bulls orarmies, 
until the seeds of Divine Truth are scattered broad- 
cast among the nations of the earth. 




LUTHER'S BIRTHPLACE. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

CONTROVERSY WITH VICAR GENERAL. 

Luther required one more lesson to complete his train- 
ing for the great work he was destined to do. At Er- 
furt he had learned how unavailing are the efforts of 
man to obtain that pardon from sin which he can only 
find in the sacrifice of the Redeemer ; at Rome he was 
to see the degradation of that Church which he still rev- 
erenced as the fountain of all godliness. 

In 1510 or 1512 — authorities differ as to the date — a 
controvers} 7 arose between seven Augustinian monaste- 
ries and their Vicar General. The} 7 agreed to call on 
the Pope for abitration, and Luther was selected to ap- 
pear as their spokesman before His Holiness. This em- 
bassy would also afford him a much needed rest from his 
arduous labors. He now set forth for the City, which 
was as } T et to him a type of the Holy of Holies, the 
abode of God's own Vicar, and the shrine at which thou- 
sands of devout pilgrims and tribes of holy monks and 
anchorites worshipped year after 3'ear. A terrible disen- 
chantment was in store for him — yet it was one which 
would free him from the thrall of a power that imprisoned 
truth and enchained the nations. Not before he was 
freed from the trammels of his illusion, could he strike 
the vigorous blows that were to emancipate Christen- 
dom. 



Journey to Rome. 24.5 

Crossing the Alps by the narrow and dangerous paths 
that preceded the magnificent highways of to-day, Lu- 
ther feasted his eyes on the fertile plains of Lombardy, 
whose sensuous beauty forms so marked a contrast to 
the sublime grandeur of the mountains to the north of 
them. He entered a monastery on the banks of the Po 
for a few da}^' rest, and was amazed at the splendor of 
the building and the luxurious habits of its inmates. 
Sumptuous apartments adorned with paintings, silk and 
velvet attire, and a table loaded with dainties — how dif- 
ferent from the bare cells and meagre fare in Germany ! 
So Luther must have thought, but he held his peace. 

Friday came — the day on which the Church forbids the 
eating of meat. The table was spread as richly as be- 
fore, and dishes of meat were among the viands. Luther 
could contain himself no longer. "On this day," said 
he, "such things may not be eaten. The Pope has for- 
bidden them." The monks were astonished at the bold- 
ness of the plain-spoken German. Apprehending that 
he might report their manner of living at Rome, they 
consulted together about averting this danger. From a 
hint dropped by the porter of the convent, a humane man, 
Luther inferred that it might fare ill with him if he re- 
mained much longer, he therefore departed with as lit- 
tle delay as possible. 

Travelling on foot, he next came to Bologna. Here 
he fell ill, and once again lay at death's door. On his 
couch of sickness in a foreign land, the old doubts and 
anguish came over him. As he lay there expecting dis- 
solution at any moment, he thought he heard a voice 
crying to him and saying, "The just shall live by faith." 
When expounding the Epistle of the Romans at Witten- 
berg he had come to these same words. What could 
their meaning be, he had pondered, but that the just 



246 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

shall have a new life, and this new life shall spring from 
faith in Christ, the Saviour? Therefore pardon and 
eternal life come not from works, but from faith ; they 
are the free gift of God to the sinner, for Christ's sake. 

Thus had he reasoned at Wittenberg, and thus did he 
reason again at Bologna. It was well that he thought 
of these words, for he was approaching a cit} 7- where 
endless rites and ceremonies had been invented to enable 
men to live by works. They taught him that holiness is 
restricted to no soil, that not Rome nor the Pope was 
its bestower, but the Holy Spirit. They illuminated his 
soul at the very portals of death. He arose from his 
bed, healed in body as well as in soul, and continued his 
journey. 

His next stop was in Florence, beautiful in the first 
glow of the Renaissance. This city had not many years 
before been the scene of events that must have touched 
a deeper chord in Luther's bosom than could any of its 
outward magnificence. It was here that in 1498 Savon- 
arola had been burnt on the Piazza della Gran Ducca 
for denouncing the corruption of the Church and uphold- 
ing the supreme authority of Scripture. These were the 
very truths that Luther had proclaimed at Wittenberg. 
It must have cheered him to think that here in a distant 
land, another had arrived at the same conclusions as his 
own, and derived from the same source. On the other 
hand, the" martyrdom of Savonarola must have caused 
him to consider that these truths could only be dissemi- 
nated at the cost of terrible struggles and sacrifices. 
Neither could it have been encouraging to him to note 
how few disciples this "prophet of the Reformation" had 
left behind him ; for in this city the climate was volup- 
tuous and the Church accommodating, and its citizens, 
who at one time seemed to be not far from the kingdom 



Disappointment. 24Q 

of heaven, fell back when confronted with the stake, and 
crouched down beneath the twofold burden of sensuality 
and superstition. 

Thus far Luther had been disappointed in his experi- 
ence of Italy. Instead of the sancthyv which he had im- 
agined springing spontaneously, as it were, out of its 
holy soil, he found all classes more or less tainted with 
irreverence and impiety. Yet he still hoped that Rome, 
the central sun of all Christendom, the seat and source 
of all ecclesiastical authorit}', would make amends for all 
this. Among the devout priests and worshippers of the 
hoh' city, he would forget the painful sights his eye had 
encountered on the waj T . 

Leaving Florence, he now descends the southern 
slopes of the mountain on which Yiterbo is seated. 
He continues his journey, the blue Mediterranean to his 
right, the "purple Apennines" to his left, crosses the 
Campagna, then not }*et become the desolate waste it is 
to-day, and, after many a weary league, the Eternal City 
bursts on his sight. Kneeling to the ground, he ex- 
claims : "Holy Rome, I salute thee !" 

The first days of his stay in Rome he employed in vis- 
iting the holy places, and performing devotions in those 
churches whose reputation for sanctity was the greatest. 
His illusions concerning the place were not at once dis- 
pelled, and he mused over the events associated with its 
palaces, monuments and ruins with religious fervor. 
Here Paul had walked, here the martyrs had died, and 
here was the seat of the Vicar of Christ ! 

But he soon perceived with pain that the luxury, ir- 
reverence and lewdness which had shocked him on the 
way, existed in Rome to a far greater extent even than 
in the other places of Italy which he had visited. He 
found that the priests were simply comedians, perform- 



250 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ing in public a part which they ridiculed privately One 
day, as he was reverentially saying a single mass in one 
of the churches of Rome, seven had been repeated by the 
priests at the other altars. With the blasphemous 
words, "Make haste and send our Lady back her Son !" 
they reproached him for his delay. To them the masses 
simply represented so much money ; therefore it was 
gainful to say them quickly. Luther's heart was cruelly 
wrung by this horrible exhibition of impiety, 3 7 et he tried 
to console himself with the hope that it was only the 
common priests that acted thus. Among the dignitaries, 
he thought, would still be found that purity of faith for 
which his soul thirsted. He was not long in discovering 
his mistake. The prelates, believing the German to be 
as irreverent as themselves, made no secret of their 
practices to him. They told him, for instance, that, in- 
stead of the words, "Hoc est meum corpus ," etc. — the 
utterance of which, according to the teachings of the 
Church of Rome, changes the bread into the flesh and 
blood of Christ — they were in the habit of saying, "Panis 
es, et panis manebis" etc., — "Bread thou art, and bread 
thou shalt remain," — and they described how they then 
elevated the Host, and how the people bowed down and 
worshipped it. Such occurrences, while they horrified 
Luther, tended to shake still further his loyalty to the 
Church of Rome. It now hung by a single thread. 

In the Church of the Laterans at Rome is a flight of 
marble stairs which Christ is said to have descended on 
retiring from the hall of judgment in which Pilate pro- 
nounced his sentence of death. These stairs were fabled 
to have been brought from Jerusalem to Rome by angels. 
The devout were in the habit of ascending them on their 
knees, in the belief that every step thus made would 
secure them a year's indulgence. One day Luther was 



The Voice Again. 251 

performing this devotional act, when suddenly he seemed 
to hear a loud voice calling to him : "The just shall live 
by faith." He started to his feet in surprise. Twice 
before had these same words come to his mind with tre- 
mendous force, but this time the great truth conveyed by 
them seemed clearer than ever. He saw how worse than 
useless it was to crave temporal indulgence from the 
Church, when God in his Word has sent an eternal in- 
dulgence to him who will but accept it. 

The doctrine of salvation by grace was henceforth the 
one great comprehensive fact of revelation to Luther. 
He now believed firmly that only by its acceptance could 
the Church be reformed, and regain its pristine purity 
and truth. Relics, privileged shrines, Pilate's stairs, 
and all the other trappings of the ecclesiastical show, 
were nothing more to him. These simple words, "The 
just shall live by faith," were more precious to him than 
all the holy treasures of the seven-hilled city. Luther 
now proposed to rekindle the old light of free salvation 
in the skies of the Church, by proclaiming and teaching 
for evermore their glorious message. And in these stout 
words did he record his resolution: "I, Doctor Martin 
Luther," he wrote, "unworthy herald of the Gospel of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, confess this article, that faith 
without works justifies before God ; and I declare that it 
shall stand and remain forever, in despite of the Emper- 
or of the Romans, the Emperor of the Turks, the Emper- 
or of the Tartars, the Emperor of the Persians ; in spite 
of the Pope and all the cardinals, with the bishops, 
priests, monks, and nuns ; in spite of kings, princes and 
nobles ; and in spite of all the world, and of the devils 
themselves ; and that, if they endeavor to fight against 
this truth, they will draw the fires of hell on their own 
heads. This is the true and holy Gospel, and the decla- 



252 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ration of me, Doctor Martin Luther, according to the 
teaching of the Holy Ghost. We hold fast to it in the 
name of (rod. Amen." 

Luther had in his short stay at Rome learned a lesson, 
which he was to remember all his life — the lesson that 
grace was not to be found at the throne of the Pope, but 
in the Word of God. Imbued with this truth he returned 
to Wittenberg in 1512, where a few months after his 
return he was invested with the title of Doctor of Divin- 
ity. At this ceremony he pledged himself on the Bible 
to stud} T , propagate and defend the faith contained in 
the Holy Writings. Henceforth he considered himself 
the champion of the reformed faith. Five years longer 
did he remain in Wittenberg, in the threefold capacity 
of preacher, professor and confessor. An assiduous stu- 
dent of the Bible, his sermons gained in depth, as its 
meaning became more and more evident to him. The 
doctrine of free grace thus began to enter the minds of 
men in Wittenberg and its vicinity ; the leaven that was 
to leaven the lump had begun its work. Still Luther had 
as yet no thought of abandoning the Mother Church. 
But in the meantime she herself was devising measures 
which were to bring about that consummation. 

The warlike Julius II., who occupied the pontifical seat 
at the time of Luther's visit to Rome, had been gathered 
to his fathers, and was succeeded by the splendor-lov- 
ing Leo X. Of the family of the Medici, he evinced 
their taste for the fine arts, and held a most brilliant 
oourt, gay with music, revels, and masquerades. The 
ecclesiastical character of his court was no hindrance to 
this refined sceptic, who said, "What a profitable affair 
this fable of Christ has been to us !" His only interest 
lay in keeping up this fable, and profiting by it. What 
more forcible commentary on the corruption of the Church 



The Indulgence Scheme. 253 

could be adduced ? Christianity was now exploited sim- 
ply as a source of revenue to Rome. 

Leo's pet ambition was to embellish Rome, as his fam- 
ily had beautified Florence, with noble buildings. 

The church of St. Peter had through various causes 
reached a state of dilapidation. He therefore proposed 
to raze the decaying fabric to the ground, and raise in 
its place a sanctuary of greater splendor than any in 
Chribtendom. Vast sums would be needed for the reali- 
zation of this project. But how were they to be ob- 
tained? The magnificent luxury of the pontiffs court 
had depleted his treasury. But the ghostly fathers were 
equal to the occasion. It was resolved to barter spirit- 
ual comfort for temporal gold. In other words, a grand 
special sale of indulgences was to be held all over Eu- 
rope. 

The Church went to work in a business-like manner. 
The licenses for the sale of these wares in each particu- 
lar country were struck off to the highest bidder, just as 
persons to-day buy the right to certain " territory," for 
the sale of an improved sewing-machine, or patent mon- 
key-wrench. It was Albert, Archbishop of Maclean and 
Magdeburg, who secured the right to sell indulgences 
in Germany. The Archbishop's tastes were as expen- 
sive in proportion as those of his superior at Rome ; he 
was consequently embarrassed by debt, and besides this 
owed the Pope between twenty and thirty thousand flor- 
ins for his pall. The opportunity was, therefore, wel- 
come to him as a means of diverting part of the gains to 
his own pocket. The next thing to do, was to find a 
man fitted to scour Germany and solicit customers for 
his goods. Such a one he found in the Dominican monk, 
John Tetzel, of infamous memory. 



2$ 4 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

This man, the son of a Leipsic goldsmith, had driven 
a huckstering trade in indulgences, when filling the office 
of inquisitor, which well prepared him for the task in 
hand. He had been sentenced to death by drowning for a 
nameless crime atlnnspruck, but was reprieved and lived 
to give by his actions the first great impetus towards the 
overthrow of the system of which he was a product. 
Glib of tongue, stentorian of voice, and shameless as sin 
itself, this fellow made a progress through Germany, 
extolling the virtues of his wares with the fluency and 
effrontery of the charlatan that he was. At the head of 
a procession he moved from place to place, carrying a 
great red cross, from which hung the papal insignia. 
In front of the procession the Pope's bull was carried on a 
velvet cushion, while the rear was brought up by mules 
laden with bales of indulgences for those who could af- 
ford to pay for them. When this cortege was nearing 
a town, a herald was sent forward to announce that, 
"The Grace of God and of the Holy Fathers was at the 
gates." Then the portals were opened and the proces- 
sion entered, escorted by representatives of civil and 
religious authoi ity and of the various guilds who had 
come out to welcome it. Flags were waved, bells 
pealed, tapers blazed, drums were beaten, and a motley 
populace surged about the strange show. 

In cathedral towns, Tetzel and his followers marched 
straight to the minster, which was soon filled by a dense 
crowd. After the cross had been erected in front of the 
high altar, and a strong iron money-box set down beside 
it, Tetzel would mount the pulpit and commence his 
harangue. He dwelt on the unexampled privilege 
offered, and the danger of neglecting the opportunity to 
secure it. "Come," he would say, "and I will give you 



TetzeVs Harangue. 255 

letters, all properly sealed, by which even the sins you 
intend to commit may be pardoned." 

"I would not change my privileges for those of St. 
Peter in heaven, for I have saved more souls by my in- 
dulgences than the apostle did by his sermons !" After 
this atrocious boast, the Dominican proceeds to disclose 
another virtue of his merchandise, namely, that l 'indul- 
gences avail not only for the living but for the dead. 
. At the very instant that the money rattles 
at the bottom of the chest, the soul (of the relative or 
friend of the donor) escapes from purgatory, and flies 
liberated to heaven. Now you can ransom so man} r 
souls, stiff-necked and thoughtless man ; with twelve 
groats you can deliver your father from purgatory, and 
you are ungrateful enough not to save him ! 
The Lord our God no longer reigns ; he has resigned all 
power to the Pope." 

With such arguments did Tetzel work to induce the 
people to fill his iron box. Now he would picture the 
terrors of purgatory ; then he would dilate on the ruin- 
ous condition of St. Peter's ; again he would hurl a sud- 
den anathema at all who rejected the proffered grace, 
and, in short, left nothing undone that would accomplish 
his purpose ; threats, entreaty, cajolery and invective, 
each in their turn, had to serve the ends of the unscru- 
pulous Dominican. His harangue ended, he would 
quickly run down the pulpit stairs, and throw a coin into 
the box ; a shower of pieces was sure to follow. 

Confessionals were erected all around the church, 
from which, after a short shrift, the penancers would pass 
to Tetzel's counter. Tetzel fixed his scale of prices ac- 
cording to the apparent rank of each applicant, whom he 
would scrutinize closely. Thus, people of moderate in- 
comes paid from one to six ducats for an ordinary indul- 



2j6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

gence ; abbots and barons, ten ; kings and princes, 
twenty-five. 

These pardons were given in the form of a letter of ab- 
solution couched in the following terms: "May our 
Lord Jesus Christ have pity on thee, N. N., and absolve 
thee by the merits of his most holy passion, and I, by 
virtue of the apostolic power which has been confided 
to me, do absolve thee from all ecclesiastical censures, 
judgments and penalties which thou may est have merited, 
and from all excesses, sins or crimes which thou mayest 
have committed, however great and enormous they may 
be, and for whatsoever cause, even though they had 
been reserved to our most Holy Father, the Pope, and 
the Apostolic See. I efface all attainders of unfitness 
and all marks of infamy thou mayest have drawn on thee 
on this occasion. I remit the punishment thou shouldst 
have had to endure in purgatory. I make thee anew a 
participant in the Sacraments of the Church. I incor- 
porate thee afresh in the Communion of the Saints, and 
I reinstate thee in the innocence and purit}^ in which 
thou wast at the hour of thy baptism ; so that at the 
hour of thy death the gate through which is the entrance 
to the place of torments and punishments, shall be closed 
against thee, and that which leads to the paradise of joy 
shall be open, and shouldst thou be spared long, 
this grace shall remain immutable to the time of thy last 
end. In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the 
Holy Ghost. Amen. 

"Brother John Tetzel, Commissioner, has signed it 
with his own hand." 

The indulgence market, which attracted great multi- 
tudes day by day, and drove a brisk business, soon be- 
came the principal theme of discussion in Germany. 
The more thoughtful part of the nation was scandalized 



Excesses of the Pardon - Mongers. 257 

at a system which, for a little money, absolved the vilest 
characters from the most atrocious crimes, and thus 
practically struck a blow at the very foundations of 
society. The criminal who had bought his pardon, was 
placed by the Church on a level with the orderly and 
peaceful citizen, and, worse than this, the thought that 
more pardons could be bought, removed all restraint 
from further wrong-doing from the minds of the ignorant 
and vicious. 

It was not always plain sailing for the sellers of indul- 
gences. A miner of Schauenburg met one of them one 
day, and asked him : "Is it true that we can, by throw- 
ing a penny into the chest, ransom a soul from purga- 
tory?" "It is so," replied the pardon-monger. "Ah, 
then," said the miner, "what a merciless man the Pope 
must be, since for want of a wretched penny he leaves a 
poor soul crying in the flames so long !" And Luther, 
in his Theses on Indulgences echoed the thought of a 
great many, when he asked : "Why does not the Pope 
deliver at once all the souls from purgatory by a holy 
charity, and on account of their great wretchedness, since 
he delivers so many from love of perishable money and 
of the Cathedral of St. Peter !" 

Meanwhile Tetzel and his hirelings steadily plied their 
trade, and deepened, if possible, the scandalous impres- 
sion caused by their business, by spending their evenings 
in taverns, gaming-houses, and other places of ill repute, 
shamelessly squandering the hard-earned gains wrung 
from a credulous people. Little did they reck that they 
were digging a mine which would eventually prove terri- 
bly destructive to the edifice of papal supremacy. When 
the gold first began to flow into the coffers of Leo X. 
from the Transalpine countries, he rejoiced greatly. 
Here was a spring of revenue that would never dry up 



2j8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

while men sinned, and men looked to the Church for par- 
don. St. Peter's Church would rise anew in unexampled 
splendor ; and so the building of her most magnificent 
sanctuary marks the period when the authority of the 
Church was first shattered. 




POPE LEO X. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

CONFLICT BEGUN. 

The Elector Frederick of Saxony bad forbidden Tetzel 
to ply his trade within his dominions. Tetzel, therefore, 
dared come no nearer to that country than Juterbock, a 
little town on the Saxon frontier, where he in course of 
time set up his big cross and his iron money-chest. As 
Wittenberg was but an hour and a half s walk distant from 
Juterbock, thousands flocked from the former place to 
attend the pardon-market at the latter. When Luther 
first heard of Tetzel, shortly before the opening of the 
Juterbock pardon-sale, he said : "By the help of God, 
I will make a hole in his drum !" 

Luther's duties as a confessor soon put him in the way 
of observing the moral havoc occasioned by Tetzel's 
course. One day some of the burghers of "Wittenberg 
confessed to him the commission of thefts, adulteries, 
and other grievous sins. "You must abandon your evil 
courses," said Luther, "otherwise I cannot absolve you." 
He was pained and surprised to hear them answer that 
the}* had no intention of leaving off their sins, and then 
they produced Tetzel's absolution papers in testimony of 
the fact that they were secured against the punishment 
of them. Luther's reply was that these papers were 
worthless, that they must repent and be forgiven of God, 
otherwise they would perish everlastingly. 

They then hurried back to Juterbock, and told Tetzel 
that a monk in Wittenberg was denouncing his indul- 



262 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

gences as worthless, and warning people against buying 
them. This enraged Tetzel beyond description ; he 
bestowed a torrent of anathemas against the man who 
dared make light of his wares, and kindled a fire in the 
market place in token of what might happen to him. 

This exhibition of rage, far from intimidating Luther, 
only served to intensify his opposition to Tetzel. From 
the pulpit and from his chair in the university he now 
condemned the indulgences, and eve a wrote a letter to 
the Prince Archbishop of Mainz, beseeching him, by his 
authority, to put a stop to the scandalous and immoral 
proceedings of the pardon-mongers. He little knew 
that he was seeking a remedy at the very source of the 
evil, and even believed that the Pope was ignorant of the 
reprehensible practices connected with the sale of indul- 
gences. 

In the opinion which Luther promulgated from the 
pulpit, that the Church could pardon only offences 
against herself, but not offences against God, he differed 
more widely from his Church than he was aware of. We 
now see the great conflict begun on a narrow stage. At 
Wittenberg free salvation is preached from the pulpit ; 
at Juterbock, but a few miles distant, heaven is sold for 
money on the market-place. 

The Elector Frederick had collected a great many 
precious relics in the Castle Church at Wittenberg, 
which were exhibited to the people at the festival of All 
Saints, which falls on the first of November, and crowds 
had come to Wittenberg to earn the indulgence offered 
to all who should visit the church on that day. But a 
surprise was in store for them. At the hour of noon, 
October 31st, Luther, who had not acquainted any one 
with his intention, joined the throng of pilgrims that 
were wending their way toward the sanctuary. Arriving 



Luther's Theses. 263 

at its portal, he pushes through the crowd, draws forth 
a paper, and nails it on the door of the church. The 
crowd presses around the door, and eagerly begins to 
read. It sees ninety-five "Theses," or propositions, on 
the doctrine of indulgences. The following fifteen of 
them are comprehensive of the spirit and scope of the 
whole : — 

"V. The Pope is unable and desires not to remit any 
other penalty than that which he has imposed of his own 
good pleasure, or conformity to the canons — that is, the 
Papal ordinances. 

"VI. The Pope cannot remit any condemnation, but 
can only declare and confirm the remission that God 
himself has given, except only in cases that belong to 
him. If he does otherwise, the condemnation continues 
the same." 

"VIII. The laws of ecclesiastical penance can only 
be imposed on the living, and in no wise respect the 
dead." 

"XXI. The commissaries of indulgences are in error 
when they say that by the Papal indulgence a man is 
delivered from every punishment, and is saved." 

"XXV. The same power that the Pope has over pur- 
gatory in the Church at large, is possessed by every 
bishop and every curate in his own particular diocese 
and parish." 

"XXXII. Those who fancy themselves sure of salva- 
tion by indulgences, will go to perdition along with those 
that teach them so." 

"XXXVII. Every true Christian, dead or living, is a 
partaker of all the blessings of Christ, or of the Church, 
by the gift of God, and without an}" letter of indulgence. 

"XXXVIII. Yet we must not despise the Pope's dis- 



264 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

tributive and pardoning power, for his pardon is a decla- 
ration of God's pardon." 

"XLIX. We should teach Christians that the Pope's 
indulgence is good if we put no confidence in it, but that 
nothing is more hurtful if it diminishes our piety. 

"L. We should teach Christians that if the Pope 
knew of the extortions of the preachers of indulgences, 
he would rather the Mother Church of St. Peter were 
burned and reduced to ashes, than see it built up with 
the skin, the flesh and the bones of his flock. 

"LI. We should teach Christians that the Pope (as it 
is his duty) would distribute his own money to the 
poor, whom the indulgence-sellers are now stripping of 
their last farthing, even were he compelled to sell the 
Mother Church of St Peter. 

"LII. To hope to be saved by indulgences is a lying 
and an empty hope, although even the commissary of 
indulgences — nay, further, the Pope himself — should 
pledge their souls to guarantee it. 

"LIII. They are the enemies of the Pope and of 
Jesus Christ, who, by reason of the preaching of indul- 
gences, forbid the preaching of the Word of God." 

"LXII. The true and precious treasure of the Church 
is the holy Gospel of the glory and grace of God." 

"LXXVI. The Papal pardons cannot remit even the 
least of venial sins, as regards the guilt." 

Luther's challenge to meet anyone who cared to con- 
trovert his " Theses" on the following day, elicited no 
response. 

In assailing the practice of indulgences, Luther estab- 
lished a principle subversive of the whole Papal system. 
Still he was hardly conscious at the time of the far-reach- 
ing effect of his declarations. He merely sought to re- 
form an abuse within the Church, not to overthrow the 



First Impressions. 261 

Church. Yet the Reformation is now fairly launched, 
and daily gathers a headway that will soon become irre- 
sistible. 

The news of the posting of the ' ' Theses" travelled rap- 
idly, and the general impression produced was in the main 
joyful. Many men felt that a new day had dawned, by 
whose light they would escape from the terrors of spirit- 
ual darkness. Yet there were others who viewed the 
movement more with fear than with hope. Thus the 
historian Kranz, who was on his death-bed when the"The- 
ses" were brought to him, said after reading them. ' 'Thou 
art right, brother Martin, but thou wilt not succeed. 
Poor monk, hie thee to thy cell and cry, ' O, God, have 
pity on me.' " An echo of the more hopeful spirit rings 
in the words of Dr. Fleck, prior of the monastery of 
Steinlausitz, who had for some time ceased to celebrate 
mass. "At last we have found the man we have waited 
for so long," and playing on the meaning of the word 
Wittenberg (wisdom-mountain,) he added: "All the 
world will go and seek wisdom on that mountain, and 
will find it." 

The moment of the appearance of the " Theses" was 
singularly opportune. The printing press, then a com- 
paratively recent invention, was a means of produc- 
ing many copies of them rapidly. The multitudes of 
pilgrims from the surrounding towns then assembled at 
Wittenberg, bought them eagerly instead of investing 
their money in indulgences. From Saxony the "Theses" 
soon spread over the other countries of Europe ; they 
were translated into Dutch and Spanish, and copies were 
even offered for sale in Jerusalem. Everywhere they 
formed the main topic of discussion ; in the university, 
the palace, the shop and the tavern, men came together 
and talked of the fearless act and new teachings of the 



268 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

monk of Wittenberg. Leo X. procured and read a copy 
of the " Theses" in the Vatican. The new light shone 
all the further for having been kindled in the midst of 
darkness. 

Luther, who had expected that the "Theses" might 
create a stir in Saxon} T , but no more, was as much sur- 
prised as anybody at their effect on Christendom. He 
now for the first time realized the immense responsibility 
he had shouldered and the tremendous odds he would 
have to contend with. But he did not repent of what 
he had clone, and with the help of God, was prepared to 
stand by the doctrine of the "Theses," come what might. 

Meanwhile Tetzel had drawn all the profit he could 
from Juterbock, and wandering to Frankfort-on-the-Oder, 
had set up his red cross and iron box on one of the more 
fashionable promenades of the city. Here he heard the 
news of the posting of the "Theses," and the harm their 
dissemination was doing his trade. Boiling with impo- 
tent wrath, he burned a copy of Luther's proposi- 
tions, and attempted to answer him in a set of counter- 
propositions. The following of his "Theses" are a sam- 
ple of the rubbish with which he expected to meet Lu- 
ther's doctrine. 

"III. Christians should be taught that the Pope, in 
the plenitude of his power, is superior to the universal 
Church, and superior to Councils, and that entire sub- 
mission is due to his decrees. 

"IVx Christians should be taught that the Pope alone 
has the right to decide in questions of Christian doc- 
trine ; that he alone, and no other, has power to explain, 
according to his judgment, the sense of Hol} T Scripture, 
and to approve or condemn the works or words of 
others." 

That the Pope's power is supreme ; that absolute sub- 



Prierio' s Reply. 2ji 

mission thereto, in spite of reason, the Fathers, or the 
Holy Scriptures, is a duty ; and that he who differs from 
this view merits death at the stake — these are the ideas 
set forth in the "Theses" of the pardon-monger. 

When the students of Wittenberg heard of Tetzel's 
"Theses," they burned a bundle of them in public, 
amidst the laughter and hootings of the citizens, who 
thus expressed their contempt for the Dominican's reply. 
When Luther, who was ignorant of these proceedings at 
the time, heard of them, he said that really it was super- 
fluous to kindle a pile to consume a document, the ex- 
travagance and absurdity of which would alone have ef- 
fected its extinction. 

However, an abler opponent soon succeeded Tetzel, 
in the person of Sylvester Mazzolini of Prierio, Master 
of the Sacred Palace at Rome. His argument, which 
was couched in the form of a dialogue, expounded "the 
rule of faith." He maintained that the Church, both 
collectively, as well as its organs of expression the 
Councils and the Supreme Pontiff — were infallible in de- 
termining questions relating to faith and morals, and 
from these premises he concluded in substance that 
"whoever does not rely on the teachings of the Roman 
Church and the Roman Pontiff as the infallible rule of 
faith, from which the Holy Scriptures themselves derive 
their strength and their authority, is a heretic." 

It is noteworthy that this first interchange of argu- 
ments between Protestantism and the Papacy hinged on 
the great question, Whom is man to believe, God or the 
Church ? Prierio assumes the written Bible to be a dead 
letter, completed many centuries ago, and unintelligible 
to man, except as explained by the Church— the living 
Bible developed from the written Scriptures during all 
these ages by the toils of interpreters and canonists, the 



272 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

edicts of Popes and the decisions of councils, and thus 
become the sole and infallible authority and deposit of 
the faith. 

Luther at first affected to ignore the authorship of this 
document, and ascribe it to an enemy, who by its tone 
of extravagant loftiness aimed to bring ridicule and con- 
tempt on the prerogatives of the Holy See. But he was 
soon forced to abandon this position, and answer the at- 
tack. He founded his answer on these words from Holy 
Writ. "Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach 
any other gospel unto you than that which we have 
preached unto you, let him be accursed." 

Prierio could nofbear the idea of being silenced by a 
German monk, and wrote a reply more extravagant than 
the first. In his attempt to exalt the Papal authority 
still higher, he founded his reply on that preposterous 
decree of canon law, which forbids any one to stop the 
Pope, or question the rightfulness of his conduct, even 
though he were plunged in the depths of sin and were 
dragging the whole world after him to eternal torments. 
Leo X. saw that this style of argument was doing the 
Papacy more harm than good, and enjoined silence on 
his over-zealous defender. 

Hocbstraten, an inquisitor at Cologne, now entered 
the lists against Luther, and true to the instincts of his 
profession,wrathfully called for his death at the stake. 
Luther coolly replied : u If it is the faggot that is to de- 
cide this controversy, the sooner I am burned the better, 
otherwise the monks may have cause to rue it." 

Prierio is now disposed of and the inquisitor silenced, 
when, behold, another opponent appears in the person of 
the renowned and learned Dr. Eck, professor of scho- 
lastic theology at Ingolstadt. In his attempt to extin- 
guish Luther, this great man was not above appealing 



Dr. Eck. 275 

to the old prejudice against Huss and the Reformers of 
Bohemia still lingering among the Germans. "It is," 
said he, "the Bohemian poison which you are circulat- 
ing." His arguments, drawn from the Aristotelian doc- 
trines, were easily met by the stout doctor ofWittem- 
berg. "Would you not hold it impudence," said Luther, 
"in one to maintain, as a part of the philosophy of Aris- 
totle, what one found it impossible to prove that Aristotle 
ever taught? You grant: it. It is the most impudent of 
all impudence to affirm that to be a part of Christianity 
which Christ never taught." 

Thus, one after other, Luther's assailants retire from 
the arena discomfited. Prierio, hoping to crush the Re- 
former with the weight of papal authoritj^, is answered : 

"The Pope is but a man, and may err!" and down 
comes the sham structure of papal infallibility ; the in- 
quisitors' threats are met with laughing scorn ; and the 
scholastic doctor is vanquished with his own weapons. 
They cannot divine the source of Luther's strength ; all 
their efforts to overcome it only bring into bold relief the 
mockery of Roman infallibilhry, and show that in the Di- 
vine Sacrifice lies the only hope of the human heart. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



LEO X. ALARMED. 



The movement inaugurated by the posting of the 
"Theses" had now gathered such headway that the Pon- 
tiff and his adherents began to feel seriously alarmed. 
Leo X., who had hitherto regarded it with a sort of con- 
temptuous good-nature, as a squabble among the ever- 
quarrelsome monks, which, like all their former squab- 
bles, would end without any momentous consequences, 
now perceived that the revolt, unless checked at once, 
might seriously impair, if not overthrow, the power and 
prestige of the Papacy. But the Emperor Maximilian 
was, even more than the Pope, alive to the impending 
danger, and wrote an energetic letter to him to rouse the 
easy-going sceptic to vigorous action against the auda- 
cious monk and his followers. This was in the year 
1518, and the Diet of the Empire was at that moment 
sitting in the City of Augsburg. Here the Emperor 
furiously inveighed against Luther and those who had 
espoused his cause, with special reference to the Elector 
Frederick of Saxony. This prince had been mainly in- 
strumental in thwarting a favorite project of the 
Emperor's at the Diet, — namely, the election of the 
grandson of the latter, the future Charles V., to succeed 
him in the Empire. But while thus rendering himself 
obnoxious to the Emperor, the Elector gained in the con- 
sideration of the Pope, who dreaded the concentration of 
half the power of Europe in one hand. Nevertheless, 



Luther Cited Before Cardiiial Cajetan. 27Q 

he could not help heeding the urgent letter of the Em- 
peror, and on the 7th of August, 1518, Luther was 
summoned to answer at Rome, within sixty days, tc ^ne 
charges preferred against him. Here was a double 
peril : to go to Rome was to defy death ; to stay meant 
to brave the wrath of the Pope, and through him that of 
the Emperor for contumacy. 

But a powerful intercessor appeared in the person of 
the Elector Frederick, who represented to the court of 
the Vatican that it was right of the Germans to have all 
ecclesiastical questions decided upon their own soil. The 
Pope, mindful of Frederick's action at the Diet of Augs- 
burg, and desirous of commanding his services in the 
future, lent a favorable ear to the plea, and on the 23rd 
of August issued a brief, empowering his legate in Ger- 
many, Cardinal de Yio, to summon Luther before him 
and pronounce judgment in his case. The legate was 
instructed to compel Luther to retract ; but should that 
attempt prove futile, he was to keep him in custody un- 
til the Pope should be pleased to send for hiin. Thus 
Leo artfully managed to make a show of friendliness to 
Frederick, while reserving the means of getting Luther to 
Rome if it should become necessary. Accordingly, 
Thomas de Yio, Cardinal St. Sixti, cited the doctor of 
Wittenberg to appear before him at Augsburg. The 
legate, better known as Cardinal Cajetan, was one of the 
most distinguished members of the Sacred College. 
An implicit believer in all the dogmas of the Church, he 
enjoyed the full confidence of his master, the Pope. 
Concealing, as he did, a stern spirit under a suave and 
polished exterior, he was a proper man to choose for the 
task assigned him. 

A few days before Luther's departure for Augsburg, 
there came a man to Wittenberg who was destined to be 



28 o Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Luther's firm friend and co-worker in the cause of the 
Reformation. This was Philip Melanchthon, who came 
by appointment of the Elector to fill the chair of Greek 
at Wittemberg University. The son of an armorer at 
Bretten in the Palatinate, he had taken the degree of 
Bachelor at the University of Heidelberg at the early age 
of fourteen. It was about this time that in accordance 
with a custom of the savants of the time he had translated 
his German name, Schwartzero, into the Greek Melanch- 
thon. The distinguishing traits of this gifted young 
man were a fondness for the Greek tongue and the study 
of the Holj r Scriptures, a calm, perspicuous mind, and 
great gentleness and amiability. Such was the compan- 
ion whom the Reformer found at the threshold of his 
stormy career. The lovable qualities of the one were a 
fitting complement to the more robust and passionate 
nature of the other. 

Luther now set forth on foot and without a safe con- 
duct, to appear before the Legate of Rome at Augsburg. 
The Elector had supplied him with money, but refused a 
safe conduct, on the ground that it was not necessary. 
Nevertheless, our pilgrim carried a stout heart in his 
bosom, although his friends trembled for his safety. 

His way led him through Weimar and Nuremberg. At 
Weimar the purveyor of the monastery where he lodged 
said to him : "Dear brother, in Augsburg you will meet 
with Italians who are learned men, but more likely to 
burn you than to answer you." "Pray to God and his 
dear S« n, Jesus Christ," replied Luther, "whose cause 
it is, to uphold it for me." Luther met with a warm re- 
ception at Nuremberg, among whose sturdy burghers his 
doctrines had early found many adherents. When his 
friends, among whom were the renowned painter and 
sculptor, Albert Diirer, and the preacher, Wenzeslaus 



Luther Arrives at Augsburg. 281 

Link, found that he was travelling without any safe eon- 
duct, they tried to dissuade him from going any further, 
fearing that he would never return from Augsburg. But 
Luther was not to be moved. "Even at Augsburg," 
wrote he, "in the midst of his enemies, Christ reigns. 
May Christ live, may Luther die ; may the God of my 
salvation be exalted." 

Though Luther did not take his friends' advice, he 
was induced to accept a frock of Link's, to wear in place 
of his own, which had not gained in sightliness on his 
long tramp. Thus attired, and accompanied by Link 
and another friend, he resumed his journey. On the 
evening of October 7th, the three entered the gates of 
Augsburg, and took up their abode at the Augustine 
monastery. The next day Link notified the cardinal of 
Luther's arrival. The lamb was now in the lion's den. 
Note the contrast. On one hand, we see a poor monk 
in a borrowed frock, lodging in the Augustinian convent, 
awaiting with a firm heart his citation before the cardi- 
nal ; on the other, we see a prince of the Church in his 
sumptuous palace, secretly resolved to receive only 
Luther's unconditional submission, or, failing in that, 
never to allow him to depart alive from Augsburg. 

Meanwhile, De Vio had imagined a proceeding which 
he expected would facilitate the consummation of the 
task intrusted to him. Early on the morning after 
Luther's arrival, an Italian courtier, Urban of Serra 
Longa by name, called on him, and after many profes- 
sions of friendship and kindly regard, offered him some 
seemingly disinterested advice, the tenor of which could 
be summarized in the single word : " Retract !" Luther, 
however, saw through the honeyed words of the wily 
Italian— whom he soon suspected t*« be a creature of the 
Cardinal's, though Serra Longa took care not to avow it — 



282 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

and remained firm. The baffled courtier, after promising 
to return and conduct him before the legate, left Luther's 
presence to report the ill-success of his errand to his 
master. But Luther, who had found a goodly number 
of friends at Augsburg, was earnestly advised by them 
not to appear before the Cardinal before obtaining a 
safe-conduct from the Emperor, who was hunting in the 
neighborhood. They offered to procure this for him, 
and painted the legate's character in such colors that 
Luther deemed it prudent to accept their offer. So, 
when Urban returned to bring him before his master, 
Luther told him that he must first obtain a safe-conduct. 
Urban pooh-poohed this idea, represented the Cardinal 
as gentleness itself, and attempted once more to induce 
Luther to retract, dwelling on the fact that the utterance 
of the simple word, " Revoco," would put an end to all 
his troubles. But it was all to no purpose. " When- 
ever" said Luther, " whenever I have a safe-conduct I 
shall appear." Urban was obliged to content himself in 
this manner, and biting his finger, he withdrew to report 
the failure also of his second mission to Cardinal 
Cajetan. 

Finally, a safe-conduct was procured, and the 11th of 
October fixed for Luther's appearance before the legate. 
Accompanied by Dr. Link, and some other friends, he 
made his way to De Vio's palace. There in the audience 
hall the Cardinal sat in state, and now for the first time 
Luther stood face to face with the representative of the 
Church. It was a moment of supreme interest. The 
two men looked at each other, each waiting for the other 
to speak. Luther was the first to break the silence with 
these words : " Most worthy father, in obedience to the 
summons of his Papal Holiness, and in compliance with 
the orders of my gracious Lord, the Elector of Saxony, 




FREDERICK THE WISE, 



First Interview with Cajetan. 28s 

I appear before you as a submissive and dutiful son of 
the Holy Christian Church, and acknowledge that I have 
published the propositions and theses ascribed to me. I 
am ready to listen most obediently to any accusation, 
and if I have erred to submit to instruction and the 
truth." 

The Cardinal thought he perceived in this reverent 
though firm address the ring of a speedy submission. 
With an air of kindly condescension, he replied that he 
required but three things of his " Dear son," first, that 
he would retract his errors ; secondly, that he would ab- 
stain in future from promulgating his opinions ; and 
thirdly, that he would avoid whatever might tend to dis- 
turb the peace of the Church. But Luther requested the 
reading of the Papal brief, which empowered the legate 
to treat of this matter, and this being denied him, he 
craved that De Vio might point out to him wherein he 
had erred. Concealing his anger, the legate took up the 
"Theses" of Luther. " Observe," said he, "in the 
seventh proposition you deny that the Sacrament can 
profit one unless he has faith ; and in your fifty-eighth 
proposition you deny that the merits of Christ form part 
of that treasure from which the Pope grants indulgences 
to the faithful." Cardinal Cajetan, in singling out these 
two proposition from the " Theses," was simply obeying 
orders from head-quarters ; for none of them were likely 
to be more damaging to the sale of indulgences. Let it 
once be established that the efficacy of a pardon is de- 
pendent on the faith of the receiver, and that the merits 
of Christ, far from being a portion of the Pope's treas- 
ure, are freely offered to all who will but believe in him 
— who will then care to buy indulgences ? This sealing 
up of the source of incalculable wealth was not to be 
brooked. " You must revoke both these errors," con- 



286 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

tinued De Vio, " and embrace the true doctrine of the 
Church." "That the man who receives the Holy Sacra- 
ment must have faith in the grace offered him," replied 
Luther, "is a truth I never can and never will revoke." 

The Cardinal now lost his temper. "Whether you will 
or no," said he, " I must have your recantation this very 
day, or for this one error I shall condemn all your propo- 
sitions." Courteously, yet firmly Luther replied : "I de- 
mand proof from Scripture that I am wrong; it is on 
Scripture that my views rest." This demand the Cardi- 
nal was unable to meet, but quoted from the decretals 
and schoolmen instead. After some fruitless discussion, 
marked by contemptuous condescension on DeVio's part, 
and a sturdy defence from Scripture on Luther's, the Car- 
dinal finally offered the Wittemberg doctor a day for 
deliberation, intimating at the same time that he would 
accept of nothing short of a retractation. 

On the following day Luther again appeared before 
Cajetan, and read a paper protesting his reverence for 
the Holy Roman Church, his readiness to answer in writ- 
ing whatever objections the Cardinal might produce 
against him, and his willingness to submit his "Theses" to 
the judgment of the Imperial Universities of Basel, Frei- 
burg and Louvain, and if these were not enough, of Paris 
from of old ever the most Christian, and in theology 
ever the most flourishing university. 

But De Vio, perhaps unable to reply to these reason- 
able proposals, tried to conceal his embarassment under 
an affected pity. "Leave off," he said, "these senseless 
counsels and return to your sound mind. Retract, my 
son, retract." Luther again appealed to Scripture for 
his justification, whereupon Cajetan showed vexation. 
Staupitz, who had accompanied Luther to this conference, 
craved and obtained permission that the Wittemberg 




PREACHING FROM PULPITS. 



Cajetarts Disgust. 28 Q 

doctor might put his views in writing, and thus the 
second hearing came to an end. 

This written declaration of his views Luther accord- 
ingly read at the third and last interview. Unable to 
restrain his irritation the legate characterized it as a long 
phylactery of mere words, but said that he would send 
the paper to Rome. Then he threatened Luther with the 
penalties 'enacted by the Pope, unless he retracted, and 
finally offered him a safe-conduct if he would go to 
Rome and be judged there. This offer Luther prudently 
declined. Thus ended the first pass-at-arms between 
the representatives of the old hierarchy and the new 
faith, much to the detriment of the former. Staupitz 
urged Cajetan to vouchsafe Luther one more hearing, 
but the Cardinal answered : "I will have no more dis- 
puting with that beast, for he has deep eyes and wonder- 
ful speculation in his head." 

Having received no answer to a respectful letter writ- 
ten to the Cardinal after the last interview, Luther by 
the advice of his friends, who feared that this silence 
boded no good to the Reformer, resolved to flee from 
Augsburg. On the fourth day after his third hearing 
he escapes on horseback before the break of dawn, ac- 
companied by a trusty guide. A friendly hand opens a 
small gate in the city walls, and away speed the two trav- 
ellers, their horses' heads turned in the direction of Wit- 
temberg. At Nuremberg Luther for the first time reads 
the orders sent from Rome to De V10 to hold him in safe 
custody should he not retract, and he now realizes that 
he has not left Augsburg a moment too soon. 

On the 30th of October Luther re-entered Wittemberg. 
It was the day preceeding the anniversary of that on 
which he had posted up his "Theses." But this time no 
crowd of relic-loving pilgrims filled the streets of the little 



2QO Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Saxon city, so effective had the blow been which Luther 
had struck at the abuse of indulgence-selling. 

But while the number of the faithful had diminished, 
the growing renown of Luther had attracted many new 
students to the university, and with joy the Elector saw 
his pet institution flourishing like a green bay tree. 
Luther now threw himself into his work with heart and 
soul, for he felt that under the circumstances his respite 
of rest must necessarily be short. And so it proved. 
On the 19th of November the Elector received a letter 
from Cardinal Cajetan, giving his version of the inter- 
views at Augsburg, and beseeching Frederick no longer 
to protect a heretic whom the tribunals of Rome were 
prosecuting. Frederick, though as yet ignorant of the 
reformed doctrines, now displayed a fairness and consid- 
eration which proved that not in vain was he denominat- 
ed "The Wise." He sent the Cardinal's letter to Lu- 
ther, who then returned to the Elector an account of the 
proceedings at Augsburg, dwelling on De Vio's failure 
to make good his promise to convince him out of Script- 
ure, and the consequent unreasonableness of his demand 
for a retractation. These points were clearly and forci- 
bly put ; besides, the Elector was well aware that Ger- 
many groaned under Italian pride and Papal greed ; he 
therefore stood by the doctor of his university, and sent 
Cajetan a reply which was substantially the same as that 
of Luther: "Prove the errors which you allege." Thus 
the already mortified Cardinal received another check. 

The day following the sending of this letter, a narra- 
tive of the proceedings at Augsburg, which Luther had 
prepared, issued from the press. He would, at the 
Elector's request, have withheld it for a while, but for 
the eagerness of the public and the cupidity of the print- 
ers. A clamorous crowd of all ages and conditions be- 



A Disastrous Edict. 2Qi 

sieged the printing-house, and eager hands clutched the 
sheets, as they were handed out, wet from the press. 
In a few days the pamphlet was spread far and near. 
Through the printing press the Reformer became the 
teacher of all Germany. His enthusiasm for the theolo- 
gy of the Holy Scriptures also kindled an ardor for this 
branch of study among the professors and students at 
Wittemberg unparalleled in later times. Each day new 
students arrived from far and near, here to receive the 
seed of a reformed life, and to bear it thence, and scat- 
ter it over regions remote. 

The electoral court also shared this passion for theo- 
logical study. Frederick's secretary, Spalatin, was con- 
tinually asking and receiving expositions of Scripture 
from Luther, prompted, it was believed, by the Elector 
himself, who thus could quietly pursue that line of in- 
quiry which was ultimately to make him the Reformer's 
staunchest ally. 

Meanwhile the tidings of Cajetan's ill-success reached 
Rome, causing gloom}' looks and anxious deliberations 
at the Vatican. The result of these counsels was a new 
decretal, which in its disastrous effects to the Church 
was to throw the blunders of Serra Longa and De Vio 
into the shade. 

Leo X. issued this edict on November 9th, which de- 
clared "that the Roman Pontiff" . . . "can for rea- 
sonable causes grant" . . . "indulgences out of the 
superabundance of the merits of Christ and the saints ; 
can confer the indulgence by absolution or transfer it by 
suffrage. And all those who have acquired indulgences'* 
. . . "are released from so much temporal punish- 
ment for their actual sins as is the equivalent of the ac- 
quired indulgence. This doctrine is to be held and 
preached by all, under penalty of excommunication, 



2g2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

from which only the Pope can absolve, save at the point 
of death." 

This decree, which was expected to silence Luther 
and quiet his adherents by the weight of its authority, 
had quite a different effect. The time had gone by when 
all men would accept an utterance from the pontifical 
chair as conclusive. It became plain to many thinking 
minds that the Pope's teaching, save in greater decency 
of language, differed in no wise from Tetzel's, and that 
the desire of converting the spiritual treasure into money 
was the animus which prompted the issuance of the docu- 
ment. In exonerating Tetzel, the Pope had saddled 
himself and the whole Church with the responsibility of 
this immense scandal. In this spirit was the edict of 
Nov. 9, 1518, discussed in Germany. And Luther, 
who had hitherto laid the doctrine of indulgences in its 
sacrilegious and blasphemous form at Tetzel's door 
only, now saw both Tetzel's and Cajetan's interpreta- 
tions of the matter indorsed by the Pope himself. This 
forced him to investigate the Papacy more searchingly 
than he had yet dared to, and in a letter written about 
that time to his friend Wenzeslaus Link of Nuremberg, 
he says : "The conviction is daily growing on me that 
the Pope is Antichrist." And when Spalatin inquired 
what he thought of war against the Turk, "Let us be- 
gin," he replied, "with the Turk at home ; it is fruitless 
to fight carnal wars, and be overcome in spiritual wars." 

This new train of thought marks an important step in 
the enlightenment of the Reformer, for it culminated in 
an appeal in which he practically abjures the Pope, by 
turning from him and calling on the entire Church. In 
this paper, which Luther read aloud in Corpus Christi 
chapel on Sunday, November 28th, in the presence of a 
notary and two witnesses, he said : "I appeal from the 



Dark Days. 2pj 

Pontiff, as a man liable to error, sin, falsehood, vanity, 
and other human infirmities not above Scripture, but 
under Scripture, to a future Council, to be legitimately 
convened in a safe place, so that a proctor deputed by 
me may have access." 

Thus closed the year 1518, big with the portent of 
a gathering storm. Luther, who knew that the Papal 
anathemas were being prepared at Pome, held himself 
ready to depart from Saxonv at a day's notice, not that 
he feared for himself, but because he did not wish to 
compromise the Elector. An intimation was in fact 
soon received from that prince that Luther should leave 
Saxony. 

Before leaving, he once more gathered his friends 
— Jonas, Pumeranus, Carlstadt, Amsdorff, Schurff 
and Melanchthon — around him ; but before this seem- 
ingly last supper with them is ended, a messenger 
arrives from Frederick, asking why Luther delays his 
departure. What a bitter pang this sends to Luther's 
heart ! His only earthly protector no longer dares give 
him an asj'lum. His friends are drowned in grief, as they 
behold the light of their university on the point of being 
quenched, and with its extinction the movement that 
promised a new life to the world, sorely imperiled. Luther, 
though well aware that his enemy would follow him from 
land to land until he had crushed him, was not appalled 
by the prospect. But the thought of leaving his coun- 
try in darkness— the thought that the dawn which had 
broken so hopefully, should so soon be overcast — it was 
that thought which drew bitter tears from his eyes. In 
the meantime, events were preparing which were to pre- 
vent the putting into execution of the Elector's com- 
mand, and avert the threatened danger, for a time at 
least. These events shall be narrated in the following 
chapter. 



CHAPTER XX. 



LENIENCY OE ROME. 



Rome, at this juncture, displayed a most unaccountable 
leniency and moderation. Here was a man who had laid 
the axe at the root of a practice that was bringing mill- 
ions to her coffers, a man who routed a Prierio, an in- 
quisitor, and a renowned scholastic in debate, a man who 
had refused to obey the commands of a Cajetan with- 
out proof of their justice, and who had then fled in con- 
tumacy. Was it a wonder that the Reformer should ex- 
pect the exercise of the direst punishment the Holy See 
could inflict ? It may have been that the Church deemed 
it wise to gain over to her service again the man who 
had shown such ability in battling against her abuses ; 
or she may have awakened to the fact that a new spirit 
was animating the world, which could only be exorcised 
by a policy of concession ; or possibly, the sceptical Leo, 
engrossed as he was with his music, pictures, statues, 
and gorgeous court-life, still underrated the potentiality 
of a movement whose full vigor and far-reaching sway 
was not apparent to his epicurian nature. It may have 
been one of these causes, or all of them combined, that 
stayed the arm of Rome. The Church despatched 
another mediator, although not openly avowing his 
mission. 

The person selected for this new attempt at concilia- 
tion was Charles Miltitz, chamberlain of the Pope. Of 




CHARLES V., EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 



Miltitz' Errand. 2QJ 

a suave and diplomatic nature, it was hoped that he 
would accomplish what had not been possible to the 
haughty Cajetan. A Saxon by birth and an Italian by 
training he would be better able to approach a German 
for the exercise of Italian wiles. 

Miltitz ostensibly came to Saxony to present the Elec- 
tor Frederick with the golden rose, a token of regard 
which the Pope granted only to his most esteemed friends. 
He was desirous that Frederick should believe himself 
among their number, and therefore sent Miltitz to Sax- 
ony with the much coveted gift. Being on the spot, he 
might as well try to arrange " Brother Martin's" busi- 
ness. It was thus attempted to create the belief that 
the principal object of the mission was merely an incident- 
al one. But no one was deceived. " The Pope's cham- 
berlain comes," Luther's friends said to him, "laden with 
flattering letters and Pontifical briefs, the cords with 
which he hopes to bind you and carry you to Rome," 
" I await the will of God," answered the Reformer. 

Miltitz was surprised to observe on his way to Sax- 
ony how deep a root the new movement had taken. Ar- 
rived at the Electoral court, he met with a coolness that 
was far from encouraging. In view of recent events, 
Frederick's appreciation of the favor accorded him had 
so greatly diminished that he did not even allow Miltitz 
to present the rose in person. Neither was the envoy 
received much more warmly by the Elector's councillors, 
Spalatin and Pfeiffinger, to whom he bore flattering 
letters from Rome. Miltitz saw that he must concentrate 
all his powers on Luther himself, as there was nothing 
to be gained through the Elector or his courtiers. He 
therefore sought and finally obtained an interview with 
the Reformer, which took place at Spalatin's house at 
Altenberg. Miltitz brought all the arts of which he was 



2Q8 Young Peoples History of Protestantism. 

master into play. He was more than gracious ; he was 
obsequious to Luther. After a preamble, calculated to 
natter the pride of a less clear-minded man than the Doc- 
tor of Wittemberg, the envoy proceeded to business. 
And it must be conceded that ha conducted it in a most 
adroit and delicate manner. Tetzel, he said, had ex- 
ceeded his orders in a most scandalous manner, and he 
was not surprised at Luther's protestations. He even 
blamed the Archbishop of Mainz for pressing Tetzel too 
hard as regarded the collection of money. Still the doc- 
trine of Indulgences was a salutaiy one, and it was the 
course that Luther had felt it his duty to pursue that had 
seduced him from it. Would he not confess that he had 
erred in so doing, and thus restore peace to the Church? 
Luther boldly replied, that the chief offender was neither 
Tetzel nor the Archbishop of Mainz ; it was the Pope, 
who, instead of giving the latter the pallium freely, had 
exacted so great a price for it that the Archbishop felt 
forced to make Tetzel get money by any means what- 
soever. " But as tor a retractation," said Luther, 
" never expect; one from me. 7 ' A second and third in- 
terview followed. Miltitz, though he made no progress 
whatsoever in securing a recantation, bore himself with 
such tact, that an arrangement was finally reached in 
which it was agreed that neither side should write or act 
in the question ; that Luther should revoke on proof of 
his errors, and that the matter should be referred to the 
judgment of an enlightened bishop. This looked very 
much like a shelving of the controversy ; and had the truce 
been kept, who knows how long the Reformation might 
have been delayed ! Miltitz was overjoyed ; he had ac- 
complished more than Prierio, Eck, or Cajetan ; he had 
gained a point, which seemed but the precursor of a final 
settlement of this vexed and vexatious Question. 



The Leipsic Disputation. 2QQ 

Luther, conformably with the agreement, now returned 
to his duties at the university, and kept silence on indul- 
gences. His enemies would have been wise had they 
done the same. 

It was Dr. Eck, a famous scholastic and debater, who 
rekindled the slumbering fires. Very vain of his powers, 
he had for some time been engaged in a controversy 
with Andrew Boclenstein, better known as Carlstadt. 
This man had answered the Obelisks of Eck, taking occa- 
sion to defend the opinions of Luther. After an ex- 
change of arguments on paper which lasted some time, it 
was finally agreed that the matter should be decided by 
a public oral disputation in the city of Leipsic. These 
disputations were the usual means of ventilating great 
public questions in that age. George, Duke of Saxony, 
uncle of the Elector Frederick, and other princes and 
illustrious personages were to be present at the dispu- 
tation. 

But before the day arrived, Eck's ambition sought 
higher game than Carlstadt, to vanquish whom would 
bring but little fame. Dr. Eck therefore published thir- 
teen Theses, in which he plainly impugned the opinions 
of Luther. 

This act, which was in contravention with the agreement 
brought about by Miltitz, left Luther free to act again. 
He therefore requested permission from Duke George to 
come to Leipsic. This was refused ; but finally the 
Duke gave Luther leave to be "present as a spectator. 
The spectator was to become the most prominent actor 
in the end. 

On the 21st of June 1519, Dr. Eck and his friends 
arrived at Leipsic. He entered the city with great 
pomp, seated in a carriage, arrayed in his sacerdotal 
robes, and followed by a procession of civic and ecclesi- 



joo Young People's History of Protestantism. 

astical notabilities. The citizens thronged the streets to 
catch a glimpse of the renowned doctor, the victor in 
so many a scholastic battle. He was accompanied by 
Poliander, who afterwards espoused the cause of the 
Reformation. 

The deputation of theologians from Wittemberg made 
their public entry into Leipsic on the 24th of June. 
The procession was headed by Carlstadt, who was to 
maintain the contest with Eck. Carlstadt, though the 
most impetuous, was probably the least profound of the 
distinguished men assembled at Wittemberg, and hardly 
Eck's peer, intellectually. A wheel of his carriage 
came off ; he rolled in the mud, and the spectators con- 
strued this into an omen of a more serious mischance, 
when he should meet his adversary. 

In the next carriage rode the Duke of Pomerania, 
with Luther, and Melanchthon at either side of him ; then 
came a long line of dignitaries from the university, 
flanked by two hundred students bearing pikes and hal- 
berds. These were actuated by a desire to protect their 
professors from possible insult and injury at the hands 
of the not over friendly Leipsicers, as well as by an in- 
terest in the coming discussion. 

On the morning of the 27th, the dignitaries with 
their retinues heard mass in the church of St. Thomas, 
and then marched to the ducal castle of Pleisenberg, the 
great hall of which had been fitted up for the disputa- 
tion. There was a pulpit at each end of the room for 
the use of the disputants ; in the centre were tables for 
the notaries, who were to take notes of the discus- 
sion. Duke George, Prince John (heir to the electoral 
throne), the Duke of Pomerania and the Prince of 
Anhalt, occup} T separate and conspicuous seats, while 
the rest of the auditors are seated on benches. Amid 



Description of the Disputants. joj 

expectant silence Peter Mosellanus, Professor of Greek 
at the University of Leipsic, ascends the pulpit, and pro- 
nounces an introductory discourse, in which he exhorts 
the champions to bear themselves gallantly, yet courte- 
ously. 

Now the organ peals, the assembly fall on their knees 
and sing the ancient hymn, Veni, Sancte Spiritus. But 
it has grown late ; the noon hour has been passed, and 
the opening of the battle is postponed till after dinner, 
which the disputants and their friends partake of at the 
hospitable board of Duke George. At two o'clock the 
concourse reassembled, and now the discussion, which 
was to last sixteen daj's, was opened. This disputation 
was fraught with the weightiest consequences, for 
it severed the last link which bound the Reformer to 
the Church. 

Mosellanus has left pen-pictures of the contestants in 
their memorable debate, which may be relied on as im- 
partial, for the professor of Greek was too much wrapped 
in ancient lore to be an intense partisan in contemporary 
conflicts. These descriptions seem to bring us nearer to 
the principal actors in this great drama ; instead of misty 
figures from the past, endowed with general attributes, 
we see living, breathing, passionate men, with their 
faults, virtues, peculiarities and physical attributes. But 
let Mosellanus speak : 

"Martin Luther is of middle stature, and so emaciated 
by hard study that one might almost count his bones. 
He is in the vigor of life, and his voice is clear and sono- 
rous. His learning and knowledge of the Holy Scrip- 
tures are beyond compare ; he has the whole Word of 
God at command. In addition to this he has great store 
of arguments and ideas. It were, perhaps, to be wished 
that he had a little more judgment in arranging his mate- 



J04 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

rials. In conversation he is candid and courteous ; 
there is nothing stoical or haughty about him ; he has 
the art of accommodating himself to every individual. 
His address is pleasing and replete with good-humor ; 
he displays fairness, and is never discomposed by the 
menaces of his adversaries, be they what they may. 
One is, in a manner, to believe that in the great things 
which he has done God has assisted him. He is blamed, 
however, for being more sarcastic in his rejoinders than 
becomes a theologian, especially when he announces new 
ideas. 

"Carlstadt is of smaller stature ; his complexion is dark 
and sallow, his voice disagreeable, his memory less 
retentive, and his temper more easily ruffled than 
Luther's. Still, however, he possesses, though in an 
inferior degree, the same qualities which distinguish his 
friend. 

"Eck is tall and broad-shouldered. He has a strong 
and truly German voice, and such excellent lungs that 
he would be well heard on the stage, or would make 
an admirable town-crier. His accent is rather coarse 
than elegant, and he has none of the gracefulness so 
much lauded by Cicero and Quintilian. His mouth, his 
eyes, and his whole figure suggest the idea of a soldier 
or butcher, rather than a theologian. His memory is 
excellent, and were his intellect equal to it, it would be 
faultless. But he is slow of comprehension, and wants 
judgment, without which all other gifts are useless. 
Hence, when he debates, he piles up, without selection 
or discernment, passages from the Bible, quotations 
from the Fathers and arguments of all descriptions. 
His assurance, moreover, is unbounded. When he finds 
himseif in a difficulty, he darts off from the matter in 
hand and pounces upon another ; sometimes, even, he 



Luther Allowed to Take Part in the Discussion. 305 

adopts the view of his antagonist, and changing the 
form of expression, most dexterously charges him with 
the very absurdity he himself was defending." 

The discussion turned on a question, which forms the 
essential dividing line between the Roman and Protes- 
tant theologies, namely, whether man is able, of his own 
will, unaided by Divine help, to select what is spiritually 
good, or whether he, since the fall, has not lost that 
power and cannot regain it until his nature is renewed 
by the Holy Spirit. The Roman theologians maintained 
the former proposition, while Carlstadt defended the 
latter view. For seven days they waged a wordy war on 
these points, at the end of which period it was generally 
conceded that Eck had proved himself the abler dispu- 
tant. 

In the meantime the restriction under which Luther's 
presence had been allowed, was withdrawn by Duke 
George at the earnest solicitation of both sides. On the 
fourth of July the Reformer ascended the pulpit to dis- 
cuss the question of the Pope's primacy with the dough- 
ty chancellor of Ingolstadt. When Luther began the 
war against indulgence-mongers, he had no doubt that 
the Pope and his dignitaries would condemn their abuses 
as readily as himself, when informed of them. When these, 
however, espoused the cause of the pardon-venders, he 
felt convinced that the men, whom he had believed to be 
enlightened, were really immersed in darkness. His in- 
vestigations of the basis of the Roman primacy, conse- 
quent on this discovery, forced him to the conclusion that 
it had no foundation whatever in either the early Church 
or the Word of God. Yet, while denying that the Pope 
was head of the Church by Divine right, he still admitted 
his human right to that title, embodied in the consent of 
the nations. 



jo6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Dr. Eck opened the discussion. His main stay was 
the well known passage, "Thou art Peter, and on this 
rock will I build my church," which he cited in support 
of the theory of the Pope's appointment by Divine au- 
thority. Luther contended that this interpretation of 
the words was unnatural, that the word rock obviously 
had no reference to Peter, but rather to the truth he 
had just confessed, in other words Christ himself; that 
Augustine and Ambrose had so construed the meaning 
of the passage ; that Scripture expressly declared that 
"other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which 
is Jesus Christ," and that Peter himself had termed 
Christ "the chief corner-stone, and a living stone, on 
which we are to build up a spiritual house." 

We will not enter into the details of this disputation, 
which covered ground that has often since been traversed, 
but it is impossible to withhold our admiration from one 
who so steadfastly stood by his convictions, as did 
Luther, in the teeth of an authority fortified by the tra- 
dition of centuries of boundless power. Luther had to 
confront numerous quotations from the false decretals. 
The evidence from this source he boldly pronounced spu- 
rious, and retreated to the early centuries of Christian 
history, and especially the Bible in which no proof of the 
Pope's supremacy could be found. 

When Doctor Eck found that he was not winning an 
easy victory, he was not above appealing to a then deep- 
rooted prejudice. He charged Luther with being "a 
patron of the theories of Wycliffe and Huss." These 
doctrines still lay under an odium in the West, which 
we can scarcely realize at the present day. This charge, 
with which Dr. Eck hoped to overwhelm Luther, created 
an intense excitement in the hall ; with bated breath the 
audience listened to Luther's reply. It was clear and 






Outcome of the Leipsic Disputation. jog 

The Bohemians," he said, "are schismatics, 
and I strongly reprobate schism ; the supreme Divine 
right is charity and unity. But among the articles of 
John Huss, condemned by the Council of Constance, 
some are plainly most Christian and evangelical, which 
the universal Church cannot condemn " 

Here is the last tie sundered. Luther, who had for- 
merly appealed from the Pope to a Council, now repudi- 
ates even the authority of councils, for has he not ac- 
cused one of condemning what was Christian, — in other 
words, of having erred? Henceforward Luther stands 
on the authority of Scripture alone. Dr. Eck, in at- 
tempting to crush the enemy, has only widened the 
breach in the walls of his own stronghold. 

The Leipsic disputation brought both gain and loss 
to the Protestant movement, but the former by far out- 
weighed the latter. The charge of Bohemianism influ- 
enced Duke George to become henceforth its bitter ene- 
my. But, on the other hand, the views of Luther were 
henceforth clearer. It brought the cause bej'ond the 
halfway or doubting stage, and gave it a firmer foothold. 
The Reformation gained some of its most noteworthy 
triends and advocates from among those present at the 
disputation — Poliander, Cellarius, the young prince of 
Anhalt, and, above all, Melanchthon. This man of 
brilliant intellect, who had hitherto been but Luther's 
friend, now became his co-worker, complementing with 
his special qualities those in which Luther was deficient. 
As Luther himself said: "I was born to contend on 
the field of battle with factions and wicked spirits. It is 
my task to uproot the stock and the stem, to clear away 
the briers and the underwood. I am the rough work- 
man who has to prepare the way, and smooth the road. 
But Philip advances quietly and softly. He tills and 



J 10 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

plants the ground ; sows and waters it joyfully, accord- 
ing to the gifts which God has given him with so liberal 
a hand." 

Thus the war at Leipsic raged around the vt*y citadel 
of Romanism. The first assault was directed against the 
essential basis of Roman theology — namely, man's inde- 
pendence of the grace of God in beginning the work of 
his salvation ; the second was directed against that 
dogma which is the corner-stone of Rome as ahierarch}- 
— the Pope's primacy. For the former the Reformer 
aimed to substitute God, the sole author of man's salva- 
tion ; for the latter Christ, as the sole monarch of the 
Church. 

Luther returned from Leipsic, freed from the fetters 
of Papal! sm, freer, nobler, more courageous, and erect 
in the liberty which the Gospel vouchsafes to all who 
follow it by faith. He resumed his work with new ar- 
dor, and imbued the University with his own restless, in- 
quiring spirit. The narrow walls of Rome, which, had 
aforetime bounded his vision, were now fallen, and the 
Reformer beheld the light he had kindled shining far 
over the nations. 

We are now on the eve of a new act in the great 
drama of the Reformation. It was inevitable that the 
movement should draw into itself the political and mate- 
rial forces of the world, either as defenders or enemies. 
At the very moment when the new light seems ready to 
shed its rays over a world eager to emerge from the 
bondage of centuries of spiritual gloom, the powers of 
darkness rally once more in unexampled force to quench 
the flame which they had erstwhile contemned as a 
harmless glimmer. In the vast empire of Charles V., 
Medievalism reasserts itself, threatening annihilation to 
the spirit of free inquiry that was now pervading Chris- 



An Unquenchable flame. jii 

tendom. It was yet to learn the lesson that no human 
agency could quench, though it might temporarily ob- 
scure, the Divine fire. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



DEATH OF MAXIMILIAN. 



In order to trace the genesis of the new factor in the 
struggle for spiritual liberty, it will be necessary to glance 
backwards to the beginning of the year made memorable 
by the Leipsic disputation. Luther's situation at that 
time was far from reassuring. Some of his friends were 
falling away ; others were growing timid ; even the be- 
nevolent Staupitz was hesitating. It is true that he had 
gained allies among the German barons ; but, as their 
sympathy proceeded rather from their hatred of Papal 
tyranny than from any appreciation of Gospel teachings, 
their alliance somewhat embarrassed the Reformer. It 
was the Teutonic, quite as much as the Reformed spirit, 
that stirred these men to take the part of a man whom 
they knew to be dogged by assassins, and against whose 
liberty Miltitz and Serra Longa were plotting. Luther's 
friends well understood the danger he was exposed to. 
Melanchthon said : "If God do not help us, we shall all 
perish." A powerful Franconian knight, Sylvester of 
Schaumburg, sent Luther a letter, saying: u If the 
electors, princes, magistrates fail you, come to me. 
God willing, I shall soon have collected more than a 
hundred gentlemen, and with their help I shall be able 
to protect you from every danger." Franz von Sickin- 
gen and Ulrich von Hutten, knights famous for their 
love of letters as well as their love of arms, offered their 



Death of Macimilian. 313 

services to the Reformer. To the proposal of the latter 
to fall on Rome with the sword, Luther answered : "I 
will not have recourse to arms and bloodshed in defence 
of the Gospel. It was by the Word that the Church was 
founded, and by the Word also shall it be re-established." 
And lastly, the prince of scholars in that age, Erasmus, 
affirmed in defence of Luther, that the outcry which had 
been raised against him, and the disturbances which his 
doctrines had created, were traceable solely to those 
whose interests, being bound up with the darkness, 
dreaded the new day that was rising on the world. 

At this critical juncture the Emperor Maximilian died. 
On the 12th of January, 1519, this prince, under whose 
easy policy the Empire had enjoyed a long period of 
peace, departed this life. He had been a zealous adhe- 
rent of Rome, and had he lived longer, would doubtless 
have insisted on the elector's banishing Luther. But 
now this eventuality, which would have delivered Luther 
into the hands of his enemies, was averted for the time ; 
for Frederick of Saxony, the protector of the Reformer 
and the Reformation, became regent of the Empire, until 
a new emperor should be elected. The sky also cleared 
in the quarter of Rome, as Leo X., who wished to carry 
a particular candidate, now found it necessary to concil- 
iate the Elector Frederick, both on account of his char- 
acter for wisdom and his influence in the electoral 
college. 

Of the original aspirants for the prize, Henry VIII., 
seeing it beyond his reach, had retired from the contest. 
The claims of the other two — Francis I. of France, and 
Charles I. of Spain — were pretty equally balanced. 
Francis, though but twenty-six, had already won glory 
in the field of war. Polished, amiable, chivalrous and 



314 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

energetic, his dash was not equalled by his perseverance. 
He hoped by the restoring to the Kings of France the 
diadem which had graced the brow of Charlemagne, to 
dispel the idea, now becoming common, that the impe- 
rial crown, though nominally elective, had become 
hereditary with the house of Austria. 

Charles, though but nineteen, had already evinced 
inclination and aptitude for affairs. Born in Ghent, the 
Spanish and German blood mingled in his veins ; he 
combined in himself more than the qualities of both 
races ; to German perseverance and Italian subtlety he 
added Spanish taciturnity. His hereditary kingdom, 
Spain, could at that day rival in power and opulence any 
country in Christendom, to say nothing of the kingdoms 
of Naples and Sicily, and the provinces of Flanders and 
Burgundy, which owned his sway. Besides this, the 
discovery of Columbus had added a continent to his 
realm, of which he at that moment could not even con- 
jecture the possibilities, and now the death of his grand- 
father, Maximilian, had put him in possession of the 
States of Austria. So vast were the dominions over 
which reigned this 3-outh, just budding into manhood, 
hardly had the sun set on their western frontier, when 
morning dawned on their eastern. 

It would be a fitting culmination of his glory to add 
the crown of the Holy Roman Empire to the many 
diadems he already possessed. He scattered gold pro- 
fusely among the electors and princes of Germany to 
gain the coveted prize. Though his rival was liberal, 
he lacked the resources which Charles had at his com- 
mand. The very greatness of the candidates defeated 
them at first ; for the Germans feared for their liberties, 
should they set either of these too powerful men over 
themselves. Thus the crown was at the first instance 



Activity at Witemberg. jjj 

offered neither to Francis nor to Charles ; it was unani- 
mously tendered to Frederick. 

Thus the sceptre of Germany was at one time within 
the reach of the best friend of the Reformation. But 
Frederick, either out of magnanimity, or to shun the 
snare of ambition, declined the proffered honor. It were 
idle to speculate what would have been the course of the 
new movement, had he done so, what oceans of blood 
would not have been shed, or what untold miseries pre- 
vented. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the 
Church. It is just possible that an acceptance of the 
imperial crown by Frederick might have proved the 
Capua of the Reformation. 

On the 28th of June, 1859, the electoral conclave met 
in the Church of St. Bartholomew in Frankfort-on-the 
Main, and unanimously elected Charles of Spain as Em- 
peror of Germany. 

It was over a year from the time of Charles' election 
until his arrival in German}- for coronation at Aix-la- 
Chapelle (October, 1520). This was a period of fruit- 
ful and progressive activity at Wittemberg. The light of 
the Word of God shone over the little band assembled 
there around Luther. As long as the regency of the 
friendly Elector continued, they could go on in the good 
work without fear or molest. Every day Luther took a 
step forward. He now read the treatise of Laurentius 
Valla, which afforded him new proof of the hollowness 
of the pretensions of the Roman primacy. In the writ- 
ings of John Huss, which he now came across for the 
first time, he was surprised to find the doctrine of justi- 
fication by faith already set forth— that doctrine which 
had come to him at the cost of so much mental anguish. 
It was now that he maintained that the Sacrament will 
profit no man without faith, and should be administered 



Ji8 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

in both kinds. Treatise after treatise came from his pen 
during this year of marvellously varied labor, and added 
fresh fuel to the conflagration that was already raging 
all around. One of these treatises, his Commentary 
upon the Galatians, is specially notable as affording a 
clearer and fuller exposition than he had hitherto given 
of what was to him the great cardinal truth — namely, 
justification through faith alone. 

But the most memorable production, not only of that 
year, but of any he had hitherto published, was his 
famous appeal to the Emperor, the princes and the peo- 
ple of Germany on the Reformation of Christianity. 
Graphic, courageous, and spirit-stirring to the highest 
degree, it was the trumpet that summoned the German 
nation to the conflict. "The time for silence," said 
Luther, "is past, and the time to speak is come." 

In this document he drew a masterly picture of Roman 
tyranny, showing how Rome had reduced Christendom, 
from the highest to the lowest, to a state of serfdom 
both spiritual and temporal. She had made herself 
supreme, he said, over the throne, over the Church, over 
the Word of God itself, and supported this assertion by 
citing the various assumptions of the Holy See, so pre- 
posterous and yet so arbitrary in their nature. He called 
on all ranks to combine for resistance against a vassal- 
age so monstrous and so degrading. 

To bring this nearer home, and to rouse what spirit of 
liberty still remained in Christendom, he supported this 
general portraiture by details. He painted the decay of 
Italy, caused by Rome, how the vampire of Papacy, 
having sucked the life-blood of that country, had sent a 
locust swarm to alight on Germany ; how the Father- 
land was being gnawed to the very bones ; and how, by 
various contrivances — indulgences, reversions, commen- 



Remedies Suggested. jig 

dams, and id omne genus — the wealth of the Fatherland 
was being conve} T ed by the priests to Rome. No won- 
der the people were poor ; the greater wonder was that 
anything was left behind the rapacious swarm. Here 
was robbery worse than that of thieves and highwaymen, 
a tyranny that destroyed soul and body, that ruined 
Church and State. Talk of the ravages of the Turk, 
and of raising aimies to repel him ! There is no Turk 
in the world like the Roman Turk. 

For these evils Luther suggested remedies. The Gos- 
pel alone could go to the root of these abuses ; but they 
were of a kind to be corrected by temporal power, to a 
certain extent. Every prince and state, said Luther, 
should forbid their subjects giving annats* to Rome. 
Kings and nobles should resist the Pontiff, as the great- 
est enemy of their own prerogatives and the welfare of 
their subjects. Instead of enforcing the bulls of the 
Pope, they ought to throw his edicts into the Rhine or 
Elbe. All causes should be tried within each country, 
the tribunals of which were to be paramount. Festivals, 
as giving occasion for idleness and vice, should be abol- 
ished ; on the Sabbath alone should men abstain from 
labor. No more cloisters should be built for the worth- 
less Mendicant friars ; the law of clerical celibacy should 
be repealed, and, in fine, the Pope, leaving kings and 
princes to govern their own realms, should confine him- 
self to prayer and the preaching of the Word. "Hearest 
thou, O Pope, not all holy, but all sinful ! Who gave 
thee power to lift thyself above God, and break his laws ? 
The wicked Satan lies through thy throat. O my Lord 
Christ, hasten thy last day, and destroy the Devil's nest 
at Rome ! There sits 'the man of sin,' of whom Paul 
speaks, 'the son of perdition.'" 

This appeal ringing through Germany like a peal of 



J20 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

thunder, sounded the knell of Roman domination in that 
land. The movement spread from Wittenberg and the 
theologians over the whole country, and became truly 
national ; it expanded from a battle of mere creed to a 
struggle for religious and civil liberty, — a struggle, in 
fine, for the manhood of the human race. 

Luther carried his appeal to the feet of the new Em- 
peror, not fearing for the ultimate triumph of his cause, 
but hoping, by securing the co-operation of that poten- 
tate, to make its progress peaceful, and to secure for it 
a speedy arrival at its goal. But the Emperor never 
deigned the Doctor of Wittenberg a reply. 

Let us now return to the "conqueror" at Leipsic, Dr. 
Eck, who had set off for Rome after the disputation. 
He had been preceded by Cajetan. Both of these men 
were so little satisfied with what they termed their victo- 
ries, that they had come to Rome to seek revenge. 

They found their task more difficult than they had ex- 
pected. The Curia was apathetic, not realizing in its 
full extent the danger in which it stood. The idea that 
an insignificant monk could shake the Pontiff's throne 
they scouted as preposterous. In all history there was 
no example of successful resistance to Rome, though 
rebel kings, heretical or barbarous nations, and proud 
heresiarchs had dashed themselves against the Papal 
chair. 

Still the members of the Curia were not blind to the 
risks of the affair. What if the civil powers should re- 
fuse to execute the ban of the Church ? Besides, there 
were in Rome itself a few moderate men, who were not 
displeased in their secret hearts at Luther's just strictures. 
Others were of the opinion that the monk might be ap- 
peased with the bribe of a pall or a cardinal's hat. 
The members of the Curia were divided among them- 



Eck's Intrigues at Rome. 



321 



selves. The jurists counselled citing Luther once more, 
before breaking the staff over him ; the theologians plead- 
ed for instant anathema. 

Dr. Eck left nothing. undone to procure the condemna- 
tion of his opponent. He inflamed the zeal of the 
monks hy his eloquence, spent hours of deliberation at 
the Vatican, and melted even the coldness of Leo. To 
second Eck's arguments, Cajetan, so ill as to be unable 
to walk, was borne every day on a litter to the council- 
chamber. The Doctor of Ingolstadt also found a potent 
ally in the banker Fugger of Augsburg, treasurer of the 
indulgences. Luther had spoiled what appeared to the 
banker as a very promising speculation, and he was 
anxious to see a heresy crushed that was so hurtful to 
his interests. 

In the meantime rumors of what was preparing for 
him at the Vatican reached Luther at Wittenberg. That 
city now presented a scene of peaceful and fruitful labor, 
that contrasted vividly with the anxiety and gloom at 
Eome. Luther was little disturbed by what he heard ; 
his trust reposed on a Greater than Leo. Visitors from 
all countries were coming daih' to see and converse with 
the Reformer, and the halls of the University were crowd- 
ed with studious youths — the hope of the Reformation. 

It was about this time also that a young Swiss priest, 
Ulrich Zwingli, avowed his belief in that Gospel which 
Luther preached. In Helvetia, too, the day was break- 
ing. 

Meanwhile, the Sacred College at Rome had gratified 
Dr. Eck's wishes by fulminating the bull of excommuni- 
cation against Luther on the 15th of June, 1520. This 
famous document, which was expected to crush the Wit- 
tenberg movement like a thunderbolt, began with an in- 
vocation to God, the Saints, and the Church, summon- 



322 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ing the Almighty to arise, and be Judge in his own 
cause, and calling on the Church to intercede with Him 
to that end. It then went on to condemn as scandalous, 
heretical and damnable, fort3*-one propositions extracted 
from the writings of Luther ; among these was one that 
declared that "to burn heretics is contrar}' to the will of 
the Hoi}' Ghost.* Then, dwelling on Luther's heresy 
and contumacy, and the marvellous forbearance of the 
Holy Sea in dealing with him, it was said that the papa- 
cy nevertheless yearned over its lost son ; it exhorted 
him earnestly to return to the fold with those whom he 
had led astray, and to prove the sincerity of his repent- 
ance by recanting and committing all his books to the 
flames within sixty days. In case of disobedience, Lu- 
ther and his adherents were pronounced incorrigible and 
accursed heretics ; all princes and magistrates were en- 
joined to apprehend and send them to Rome, or banish 
them from the country wherein they happened to be. 
The towns in which they continued to live were placed 
under interdict, and whoever opposed the publication 
and execution of the bull was excommunicated in "the 
name of the Almighty God, and of the holy apostles, St. 
Peter and St. Paul." 

Immediately on the heels of this haughty edict came a 
letter to the Elector Frederick from Leo X. , dilating on 
the errors of that " son of iniquit}," Martin Luther, 
expressing a conviction that Frederick held these errors 
in abhorrence, and winding up with fulsome praise of 
the Elector, who, His Holiness knew, would not let the 
blackness of heresy sully the name of his house. But 
the effect of these transparent compliments was just the 
contrary of what had been hoped for ; the day had 
passed when they would have gratified the Elector, and 



Publication of the Bull. 323 

he resolved henceforth to stand by the Doctor of Wit- 
tenberg. 

The publication of the bull in the countries of Chris- 
tendom was entrusted to the nuncios Eck and Alexander, 
than whom it would have been hard to find two men bet- 
ter fitted to render an odious mission yet more odious. 
As Eck came onward through the German towns, he was 
met with the coldness of the bishops, the hootings of the 
university youth, and the contempt of the burghers. 
"It is Eck's bull, not the Pope's," said the Germans. 
At times Eck even had to hide from popular fury, and 
he closed his career by going into permanent seclusion 
at Coburg. As for Alexander, it is but necessary to say 
of him that he had been secretary to Pope Alexander 
VI., the infamous Borgia. 

While the bull was slowly advancing towards its des- 
tination, two publications of memorable purport issued 
from Luther's pen. One was, The Babylonish Captivity 
of the Church, in which the Reformer asserted that "the 
Papacy is a general chase, led by the Roman Bishop to 
catch and destroy souls." These were hardly the words 
of a man read}' to appear as a penitent before the Pon- 
tifical chair. 

The other was a letter addressed to Pope Leo X. 
Written in a spirit of intense earnestness, it is the epis- 
tle of a man who loves too deeply to remain silent, yet 
is too honest and fearless to flatter. After defending 
his own course, Luther compares Leo to a lamb in the 
midst of wolves — a Daniel in the lion's den — and ad- 
monishes him in the words: " We would have heeded 

Babylon, but she is not healed — forsake her 

Eome is not worthy of you and those who resemble you. 
. . . . Is it not true that under the vast expanse of 
heaven there is nothing more corrupt^ more hateful 



^24- Young People's History of Protestantism. 

than the Roman court? In vice and corruption it in- 
finitely exceeds the Turk's. Once the gate of heaven, it 
has become the mouth of hell — a wide mouth, which the 
wrath of God keeps open, so that on seeing so many 
unhappy beings thrown headlong into it, I was obliged 
to lift my voice as in a tempest, in order that, at least, 
some might be saved from the terrible abyss." 

After some detail concerning his communications with 
De Vio, Eck, and Miltitz, Luther closes with the words : 
" I cannot retract my doctrine. I cannot permit rules 
of interpretation to be imposed on the Holy Scriptures. 
The Word of God — the source whence all freedom 
springs — must be left free. Perhaps I am too bold in 
giving advice to so high a majest^y, whose duty it is to 
instruct all men, but I see the dangers which surround 
you at Rome ; I see you driven hither and thither ; 
tossed, as it were, upon the billows of a raging sea. 
Charity urges me, and I cannot resist sending forth a 
warning cry." 

This letter was accompanied by a little treatise on the 
" Liberty of the Christian ; " this Luther described as a 
gift to one "who needed only spiritual gifts," and con- 
cluded with the words: "I commend myself to your 
Holiness. May the Lord keep 3'ou forever and ever. 
Amen." 

Thus courageously spoke the monk of Wittenberg to 
the Pontiff of Christendom ; for the last time before the 
final rejection of a Church, once so renowned throughout 
the earth for its faith, did Truth lift up its voice at 
Rome. 

In October, 1520, after having been published far and 
wide, the bull arrived at Wittenberg. The man against 
whom it was directed was almost the last to see it. Yet 
it could not be published at Wittenberg, the University 



Luther's Protest Against the Bull. 325 

having jurisdiction superior to the Bishop of Branden- 
burg in such matters. Publication it did receive, and 
most emphatically, but of a nature far different from 
what its framers had intended. Meanwhile Luther took 
formal steps to indicate his position towards that Church 
which had condemned him. On the morning of the 17th 
-of November he entered a solemn protest against the 
bull in the presence of a notary public and five witnesses. 
Four reasons formed the groundwork of this appeal : 
First, because he stood condemned without having been 
heard, and without any reason or proof assigned of his 
error. Second, because he was required to deny that 
Christian faith was essential to the efficacious reception 
of the Sacrament. Third, because the Pope exalts his 
own opinion above the word of God ; and Fourth, be- 
cause, as a proud contemner of the Holy Church of God, 
and of a legitimate Council, the Pope had refused to 
convoke a Council of the Church, declaring that a Coun- 
cil is nothing of itself. 

This protest was accompanied by an appeal to the 
Emperor, princes, nobles, and the magistracy of Ger- 
many to stand by him in resisting the tyranny of the 
Pope, and not execute the bull before he had been tried 
by impartial judges and convicted from Scripture. 

Luther now prepared a companion piece to the numer- 
ous piles of his works that were blazing in the track of 
the two nuncios in Louvain, Cologne, and many other 
towns in the hereditary estates of the Emperor. In ac- 
cordance with an announcement which had been posted 
on the walls of the University of Wittenberg on the 
morning of Dec. 10th, Luther issued from the gate of 
that seat of learning at the head of six hundred doctors 
and students and a sympathizing crowd of citizens, and 
proceeded to the eastern gate of the town to burn the 



J26 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Pontiff's bull — for all unclean things were burned with- 
out the camp. Here stood a scaffold with a pile of logs 
laid upon it. One of the Masters of Arts applied a 
torch to the pile, which soon was enveloped in flames. 
Then Luther, in the garb of his order, stepped forth 
from the crowd, and cast the several volumes composing 
the Canon Law of the Church, one after the other, on 
the blazing pile. Like common things the flames con- 
sumed these awful volumes. But the hecatomb was not 
yet complete. Luther now held up the bull of Leo X., 
saying, "Since thou hast vexed the Holy One of the 
Lord, may everlasting fire vex and consume thee," and 
threw it into the burning mass. In a few moments its 
ashes mingled with those of its predecessors. 

The blow had been struck. Doctors, masters, stu- 
dents, townsmen again gathered around the Reformer, 
and marched back to the city amidst demonstrations of 
triumph. 

Luther followed up his action with words. On the 
following da} T , while lecturing on the Psalms, he reverted 
to the episode of the bull in a strain of impassioned elo- 
quence and invective. The burning of the bull, said he, 
is but the sign ; the thing signified is the conflagration 
of the Papacy. This, he intimated to the assembled 
students, was what they were to aim at. "The time is 
come when Christians must choose between death here 
and death hereafter. For my own part, I choose death 
here. ... I abominate the Babylonian pest. As 
long as I live I will proclaim the truth. If the whole- 
sale destruction of souls throughout Christendom cannot 
be prevented, at least I shall labor to the utmost of my 
power to rescue my own countrymen from the bottomless 
pit." 

Thus did the monk of Wittenberg fling back the bolt 



A Bolt Hurled Back. 



327 



hurled against him from the Seven Hills. Never before 
did Eome launch this instrument without crushing the 
offender against whom it was directed ; but a Higher 
Power this time not only rendered it innocuous, but 
caused it to react on its trainers. The burning of the 
bull marks the beginning of a new era in the movement 
of the Eeformation ; it defines the fulness of Luther's 
doctrinal views, the result of a matured judgment respect- 
ing the two systems and the two Churches. Many new 
recruits now flock around the standard of spiritual lib- 
erty, in all lands and in all ranks ; a blessed spring-time 
seems to have visited the world, j~et there are many 
storms still to come. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

CHARLES V. EMPEROR. 

On the 23d of October 1520, the coronation of Charles, 
as Emperor of Germany, took place at Aix-la-Chapelle 
in the presence of an assembly unprecedented in num- 
bers and splendor. The ceremony took place in the 
Cathedral of the town ; it included a two-fold oath on 
the part of the newly-elected prince to keep the Catholic 
faith and defend the Church, and concluded with a proc- 
lamation by the Archbishop of Mainz to the effect that 
the Pope confirmed what had been done, and that it was 
his will that Charles V. should reign as Emperor. The 
coronation over, Charles and his brilliant suite immedi- 
ately took their departure for Cologne, for the plague 
had visited Aix-la-Chapelle. Their ultimate destination 
was Worms, where the Emperor proposed holding his 
first Diet, avoiding Nuremberg which had been first 
chosen for that purpose, for the same reason that he 
had left Aix-la-Chapelle so hurriedly. During the halt 
of the court at Cologne were commenced the intrigues 
which resulted in the scenes at the Diet of Worms. 

Luther's affair now held the first place in the thoughts 
of the Pope and his counsellors, and they had delegated 
two special envoys — Marino Caraccioli and Girolamo 
Aleander to look after the man, who had routed the 
ablest champions and most plausible intriguers of Rome, 
robbed the Pontifical thunder of all its terrors, and done 



Aleander Burns Litther's Writings. J29 

immense damage to the Holy See b} T turning the minds 
of men, who now refused to buy indulgences, withheld 
annats, and treated the authority of the kej T s of St. Peter 
with contempt. It was time that such audacity be quelled 
and such wickedness punished. 

The two envoys left nothing undone to bring about 
this consummation. Aleander, though attainted with an 
evil prestige, was the abler of the two ; of scholarly 
tastes, untiring industry and thoroughly devoted to the 
See of Rome, that body had few men at its service bet- 
ter able to bring this difficult and dangerous negotiation 
to a successful issue. He began his work with pub- 
licly burning Luther's writings at Cologne. Some one 
said to him, "What matters it to erase the writing on 
paper ! it is the writing on men's hearts you ought to 
erase. Luther's opinions are written there." "True," 
replied Aleander, who understood his age, "but we must 
teach by signs that all can read." What Aleander really 
wished was to bring the author of these books to the pilel 
To get the Wittenberg doctor in his power it was neces- 
sary to turn from him the Elector of Saxony, his protec- 
tor, and also to gain over the young Emperor Charles. 
The latter he deemed an easy task, for the Emperor was 
descended from an ancestry whose glories were en- 
twined with Catholicism, and he had given the permis- 
sion to burn the Reformers writings. "We have burned 
Luther's books," said Aleander to the Emperor, "but 
the whole air is thick with heresy. We require, in order 
to its purification an imperial edict against their author." 
"I must first ascertain," replied the Emperor, "what our 
father the Elector of Saxony thinks of this matter." 

Aleander accordingly obtained an audience of Fred- 
erick, who received him in the presence of his counsel- 
lors and the Bishop of Trent. Pushing aside Caraccioli, 



330 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

who was trying to win Frederick by flatteries, in a tone 
bordering on insolence Aleander depicted the havoc 
Luther was working in the Roman camp, asserted that 
"the man who unites himself with him separates himself 
from Christ, and that Frederick alone stood between the 
monk and the punishment he merited, and concluded 
with the demand that the elector should himself punish 
Luther or deliver him up to Rome. But the elector calmly 
replied that no one had yet refuted Luther ; that it would 
be a grievous wrong to punish a man without a hearing, 
and that the Reformer must be summoned before a tribu- 
nal of pious, learned and impartial judges. 

Ths proposal, pointing to the Diet about to meet at 
Worms, alarmed Aleander greatly, for he knew the cour- 
age and eloquence of Luther and dreaded the impression 
he would be likely to make on the princes there assem- 
bled. 

Anything that would add prestige to the already too 
popular cause must be strenuously opposed. Besides, 
the appearance of Luther before a lay assembly, after 
being excommunicated by the Pope, would be an open 
affront to the Pontiff. So Aleander again turned to the 
emperor; but that potentate, with whom the whole mat- 
ter resolved itself into a question of policy rather than 
of faith, gave the envo}' but little comfort. Charles did 
not care to break with the Elector, of whese advice and 
aid he stood in need in his new position. On the other 
hand he desired to keep on good terms with the Pope ; 
for he stood on the brink of a war with Francis I. of 
France, who had, b} T the victory of Marignano (1515), 
gained possession of the Duchy of Milan. Coveting this 
province, and desirous of extending his influence in Italy, 
Charles saw that the good-will of the Pontiff might be of 
importance to him. Should the Pope promise his aid, 




LUTHER'S HOME IN FRANKFORT. 



The Opening of the Diet. 333 

the emperor would deliver Luther into his hands ; in the 
contrary case, Charles would protect the Reformer as a 
means of opposing Leo. But the latter, who dreaded 
both Charles and Francis, hesitated and temporized, and 
the Emperor of Germany could not shape his policy until 
the Pope had made his decision. Meanwhile the impe- 
rial Court moved forward to Worms with the two Papal 
envoys in its train. The opening of the Diet had been 
set for January 6, 1521. One of the reasons assigned in 
the circulars to the princes for its convocation, was the 
concerting of proper measures for checking these new 
and dangerous opinions which so profoundly agitated 
Germany and threatened to overthrow the religion of 
their ancestors. 

The agitation in the minds of men, and the gravity of 
the affairs to be discussed, drew unprecedented numbers 
of the grandees of Germany to the ancient Rhenish City. 
On the 28th of January, 1521, the Diet was opened under 
the presidency of Charles. Beneath the gay tournaments 
and other pastimes that marked this event lurked many 
grave anxieties. Charles dared not give way to the in- 
cessant importunities of the Papal muncios, that he 
should execute the bull against Luther, for fear of incur- 
ring the Elector's enmity ; neither was he ready to offend 
the Pope by a direct refusal, in view of the impending 
war in northern Italy. The conflicting orders contin- 
ually being sent to the Elector, one day enjoining him to 
bring Luther to Worms, the other commanding that he 
should leave him at Wittenberg, show the vacillations of 
the imperial mind at that juncture. 

Aleander, exasperated by this indicision, wrote an 
urgent letter to the Cardinal de Medici, the Pope's rela- 
tive, to the effect that "Germany was separating herself 
from Rome," and that unless more money was sent to 



334 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

influence the members of the Diet, he despaired of bring- 
ing his negotiations to a successful issue. Rome replied 
with alacrity to her servant's call. Not only ducats did 
she send, but more anathemas. The first bull against 
Luther had been conditional, giving him sixty days in 
which to retract, before excommunicating him ; but that 
sentence was now actually inflicted by a new bull, ful- 
minated at this time (January 6, 1521), and ordered to 
be published with terrible solemnities in all the churches 
of Germany. Not only Luther himself, but all his ad- 
herents, came under the ban. Rome herself had now 
completed the separation between Protestantism and the 
Mother Church. 

While this step simplified matters to both Aleander 
and Luther, it disquieted the politicians, by bringing to 
a focus a matter which they wished to hold in abeyance. 
In this extremity they bethought themselves of a last 
resort to stave off the threatened crisis. One John Gla- 
pio, a Spanish Franciscan, belonging to the reform party 
within the Church, confessor to the emperor, and a man 
of eminent ability, was commissioned to approach Por 
tanus, the councillor of the Elector of Saxony, with a 
view of securing a retraction from Luther through him. 
But this attempt, though conducted with masterly tact, 
ended, like its predecessors, in signal failure. 

Meanwhile the negotiations between the emperor and 
the Court of the Vatican were brought to a close. The 
Pope agreed to be the ally of Charles in his approaching 
war with the French, and the emperor, on his part, un- 
dertook to please the Pope in the matter of the monk of 
Wittemberg. Empire and Papacy, which had for two 
centuries waged a terrible war for the supremacy of 
Christendom, were now united by their hatred of the new 
power that had appeared on the world's stage. The die 



Arrival of Message. 335 

is cast. Church and State have united to crush Protestant- 
ism. It is hard to see how they can fail of accomplish- 
ing their purpose. If they should be baffled it would be 
the most strange and unaccountable thing in the annals 
of history, 

One da}' in the beginning of February, when the princes 
and nobles had assembled to hold a splendid tournament, 
an imperial messenger suddenly appeared among them, 
commanding their attendance at the royal palace. 
Arrived there, the emperor produced and read the papal 
bull which had lately arrived from Rome, commanding 
him to sanction the excommunication against Luther, 
and give immediate execution to the bull. Before the} r 
had recovered from their surprise the emperor drew forth 
and read to the assembled princes the edict which he had 
himself drawn up in conformity with the papal brief, 
commanding that it should be done as the Pope desired. 

Fortunately for the cause of the Reformation, the Con- 
stitution of the Empire required that Charles, before 
executing this sentence, should consult with the princes 
as to its advisability. Though a majority of them cared 
little for Luther, they felt that to deliver him up to 
Rome was to strengthen a tyranny that was galling to 
themselves ; they accordingly craved time for delibera- 
tion. " Convince this assembly," said the politic 
Charles to Aleander, furious at seeing the cup about to 
be dashed from his lips, and appointed the 13th of Feb- 
ruary for that purpose. 

On that day the nuncio appeared before the Diet, and 
arraigned Luther and defended the Papacy in a powerful 
speech of three hours' duration. So telling was it in its 
effect on the minds of the princes, that, had a vote been 
taken at that moment, all but one would have been given 
for the condemnation of Luther. But the Diet ad- 



jj6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

journed after the conclusion of the speech, and when it 
next assembled, a sober second thought had taken the 
place of its momentary exaltation. The hard facts of 
Roman extortion alone remained imprinted in the mem- 
ories of the German barons. 

At this meeting Duke George was the first to speak. 
An enemy of Luther and his doctrines, his words had 
the greater weight, as he was known to be a champion 
of the rights of his native land, and a foe of ecclesiasti- 
cal abuses. He drew a strong picture of the havoc 
caused in Germany by Roman usurpation and venality, 
and suggested an universal reform within the Church as 
a remedy. This could only be accomplished by a Gen- 
eral Council, and in conclusion Duke George demanded 
that such should be convoked. 

A committee appointed by the Diet drew up a list of 
one hundred and one grievances of the German nation, 
and presented the same to the Emperor at a subsequent 
meeting, requesting him at the same time to take steps 
toward a reformation of the specified abuses, according 
to an agreement he had signed on ascendiug the throne. 

More than this, the princes declared that it was unjust 
to condemn a man without giving him a chance to de- 
fend himself, and demanded that Luther be summoned 
before the Diet. In vain Aleander strove to persuade 
the Emperor to deny this demand ; the politic prince 
dared not disregard the voice of the nation, and it was 
concluded in the Diet that the summons should be made. 
The nuncio's last hope lay in causing a safe-conduct to 
be withheld from the Reformer ; but he failed even in 
this. On the 6th of March, 1621, the Emperor signed 
the summons to Luther that he present himself within 
twenty-one days before the Diet at Worms. Enclosed 
in this citation was an order, enjoining all princes, lords, 



The Papal Curse. jjg 

magistrates and others to respect this safe-conduct under 
pain of the displeasure of the Emperor and the Empire. 
Gaspard Sturm, the imperial herald, was commissioned 
to deliver these documents to Luther, and accompany 
him to Worms. While this messenger is on his way to 
bring the miner's son before the great of the earth, let us 
turn to Rome, and see what is at that moment taking 
place in the Eternal City. 

It had been the wont of the Pontiffs to promulgate 
annually at Rome the terrible bull In Cozna Domini, or 
the Bull of the Lord's Supper, so-called, because it was 
always pronounced on the Thursday before Easter Sun- 
day. It has been called "the pick of excommunica- 
tions," so comprehensive is its scope and so frightful are 
its condemnations. Year by }'ear new names had been 
added to it. 

It is Maunday-Thursday. On the balcony of the met- 
ropolitan cathedral sits Pope Leo X., decked in the 
robes of State, and surrounded by attendant priests, 
bearing lighted torches. A silent multitude, on bended 
knees and with uncovered heads, crowds the square be- 
low, while the Pontiff launches his anathemas against 
all ranks, nations and individuals not obedient to the 
Papal See. And listen ! a new name has been inserted 
in this curse. It is the name of Martin Luther, and 
holds a prominent place. The malediction ended, the 
bells toll, the cannon of St. Angelo thunder, the crowds 
of priests wildly wave their tapers, then suddenly extin- 
guish them. Rome has added the daring monk to the 
many witnesses for the truth who have in former ages 
fallen under her ban. Cast forth irrevocably from the 
Roman pale, he is now forever united with the Church 
spiritual and holy and catholic. 

On the 24th of March the imperial herald arrived at 



34° Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Wittenberg, and handed to Luther the summons to ap- 
pear before the Diet at Worms. While fully aware that 
the Elector Frederick was the only one in that assembly 
on whom he could fully rely, and knowing also that his 
safe-conduct might be violated, as had been that of John 
Huss, he did not for a moment waver in his resolution 
to obey the summons. After a tender parting from 
Melanchthon, his dearest friend, he set forth on the sec- 
ond of April, accompanied by Amsdorff, Schurff, and a 
young Danish nobleman, named Sauven. The citizens 
of Wittenberg, as well as the academic youth and pro- 
fessors, thronged the streets to witness the departure of 




VIEW IN WITTENBERG. 



On the Journey. 341 

the light of their Universit}', and many a sympathetic 
tear was shed as he passed out of the gate on his peril- 
ous mission. 

Tne little group of travellers proceeded in the follow- 
ing order : First came Sturm, the herald, on horseback, 
displaying the imperial eagle ; behind him rode his ser- 
vant, and last of all was an humble wagon, containing 
Luther and his friends. This conveyance, furnished by 
the magistrates of Wittenberg, was provided with an 
awning to screen the travellers from sun and rain. 

All along the route of the little cavalcade crowds 
poured out from the villages to catch a glimpse of the 
bold monk, and give him cordial greeting, and at the 
gates of those cities where he was expected to halt, pro- 
cessions waited to bid him welcome. Leipsic formed 
an exception to this cordiality ; there he was simply 
presented with a cup of wine, as much as to say, 
"Pass on." 

His entrance into Erfurt, the scene of his early strug- 
gles, and where he had begged alms for the monastery 
on the streets, was a veritable triumph. A short dis- 
tance from the town he was met by a cavalcade com- 
posed of the members of the Senate, the University, and 
two thousand burghers, who escorted him through the 
thronged streets to the old familiar Augustinian convent. 
On the Sunday after Easter he preached a sermon in the 
convent church to an overflowing multitude ; his text 
was, "Peace be unto you." (John 20 : 19.) Eloquently 
did he discourse on Christ and the salvation vouchsafed 
through him ; but of the Diet, of the Emperor, of him- 
self, he said not a word. 

Traversing familiar ground, he soon after came to 
Eisenach, the home of the benefactor of his youth. 
Thence to Worms his path giew more beset with dan- 



^42 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

gers at every step. The threats of his enemies became 
louder, the fears of his friends increased. One of them 
said to him: "They will burn you, and reduce your 
body to ashes, as they did that of John Huss." "Though 
they should kindle a fire," was his intrepid reply, "all 
the way from Worms to Wittenberg, the flames of which 
reached to heaven, I would walk through it in the name 
of the Lord, I would appear before them, I would enter 
the jaws of this Bohemoth, and confess the Lord Jesus 
Christ between his teeth." 

Luther was ill all the way from Eisenach to Frankfort- 
on-the-Main, yet his spirits did not droop for all that. 
The Roman party hoped he would not dare to enter 
Worms, and tried by intrigues and menaces to make him 
turn back. But undismayed by wile or threat, Luther 
pressed steadily forward, and was now almost within 
sight of the ancient town. 

Whispers now beginning to circulate in Worms, that 
the Diet was not bound to respect the safe-conduct of a 
heretic, caused the friends of Luther great uneasiness, 
which even the Elector shared. Spalatin sent a messen- 
ger to Luther, advising him not to enter. With stead- 
fast gaze Luther replied : " Go and tell your master that 
even should there be as many devils in Worms as tile 
on the house-tops, still I will enter it.' 7 This memorable 
reply put an end to all attempts to prevent his coming, 
and during the remainder of his journey he was not 
further troubled. 

At ten o'clock, on the morning of the 16th of April 
Luther caught his first distant glimpse of the ancient 
towers of Worms. Sitting up in the wagon, he began 
to sing the hymn which he had composed at Oppenheim 
two days before, "A strong Tower is our God." At 
mid-day a sentinel, posted in the cathedral tower, first 



At Worms. 343 

descried the little group, and sounded his trumpet. The 
citizens rushed from their dinners into the street, and in 
a few moments princes, nobles, burghers, and men of all 
nations and conditions, had assembled in one mighty 
throng to see the monk enter ; for, from first to last, no 
one had believed that he would come. But now he 
really was in Worms. As the herald with some difficul- 
ty made way for his wagon, the crowd beheld a visage 
bearing the traces of recent illness, but illumined by 
deep, calm eyes. 

Presently a figure clothed in a grotesque costume, 
and bearing a great black cross, such as is borne before 
corpses on their way to the grave, pushed through the 
xhrong, and began chanting in funereal tones : 



"Advenisti, O desiderabilis I 



P5* 



Quern expectabamus in tenebris! 

This doleful requiem was soon drowned in the joyous 
welcome which the multitude accorded to the man who 
had, contrary to all expectations, at last entered their 
gates. After a slow progress through the immense con- 
course, the cavalcade halted at the inn of the Knights of 
Rhodes, which conveniently adjoined the hall of the 
Diet. On alighting from the wagon, Luther uttered the 
words, k 'God will be for me," thus revealing the secret 
of his courage. 

Though in great need of rest after his recent illness 
and long journey, it was not vouchsafed him at once. 

Scarcely had Luther entered his lodgings when 
princes, dukes, counts, bishops, men of all ranks, 
crowded into his apartments to see the one man who, in 
the face of death, was defying all the world. In the midst 

*"Lo! thou art come, O thou greatly desired one, whom we have waited 
for in the darkness of the grave ! ' 



344 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

of this brilliant throng Luther stood unmoved. He 
heard their questions, and replied with wisdom and 
calmness. Even his enemies admired his dignity of 
manner. Whence had the miner's son the grace which 
princes might env}'? Where had he learned wisdom, 
which has seduced, say some — enlightened, say others, 
so many thousands ? Where has he mastered the subtle- 
ties which no theologian of Rome has been able to with- 
stand? He was a mystery alike to friends and foes. 
Some revered him ; others thought him a monster. 
Some held him to be almost divine; others said, "He 
hath a devil." 




It was far into the night before the crowd left him to 
his repose ; but even then he could not sleep. He was 



Luther's Restlessness. j^j 

excited and restless. Coming events crowded his imag- 
ination. He sang a verse of his favorite hymn, and sat 
gazing out of the window. The tiled roofs of the silent 
city were below him, and beyond the walls the great val- 
ley through which the mighty Rhine poured its floods. 
Peace came, and turning from the casement, he said, "I 
will lay me down and take quiet rest, for Thou makest 
me to dwell in safetv." 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

LUTHER BEFORE THE DIET AT WORMS. 

On the next morning, the 17th of April, Ulrich von 
Pappenheim, the Marshal of the Empire, summoned 
Luther to appear at four o'clock in the afternoon before 
his Imperial Majesty and the States of the Empire. 

It was an important crisis in the life of Luther, as well 
as the history of the Reformation. It was a moment of 
supreme suspense. Can the man, single-handed and 
alone, meet the emergency? He remained during the 
forenoon in his room, engaged most of the time in 
prayer. Kneeling before the throne of the King of 
kings, he learned how to stand before the throne of 
Charles. 

At four the Marshal, led by a herald, returned. Lu- 
ther went on his way to the Diet. It was no easy mat- 
ter to reach the Town Hall. The crowds which thronged 
the streets made them impassable. Every window was 
filled, and every house-top clustered with spectators. 
Often a long shout of enthusiastic welcome would greet 
him, and often hisses ot reproach. The throngs in- 
creased ; the crowds were so dense that the Marshal 
was obliged to pass through private houses and the gar- 
dens of the Knights of Rhodes to reach the hall. Here 
a dense crowd awaited their appearance in the ante- 



At the Throne of Charles. j^y 

chamber filling every window niche, or inch of space, and 
numbering at least five-thousand — Germans, Spaniards, 
Italians, and other nationalities. 

As the j stood at the doors of the Diet, the bronzed hand 
of the war-veteran Freundsberg was laid upon Luther's 
shoulders, as he said : "My monk, my good monk, you 
are now going to face greater peril than any of us have 
ever encountered on the bloodiest field ; if you are right, 
and feel sure of it, go on, and God will fight for you." 
With these words in his ear, the door closed behind him, 
and Luther stood in the august presence. But there 
were words whispered in his ear as he passed between 
princes and nobles up to the foot of the throne of 
Charles: "But when they deliver you up, take no 
thought how or what you shall speak, for it shall be 
given you in that same hour what ye shall speak ;" and 
other voices whispered : ' ' Fear not them that can kill 
the body, and after that have no more that they can do." 
Thus was he cheered, and thus he felt that God was with 
him, for this seemed to be his voice. 

It was a great transition from the seething, swaying 
crowd which surged around him outside, to the calm 
grandeur of the Diet within the hall, and not without its 
effects upon the Reformer. For a moment he seemed 
uncertain, bewildered, intimidated. All eyes were upon 
him. The keen eyes of the young Emperor searched 
his face intently ; but the agitation soon passed, and 
Luther stood the keen, observant gaze with calm com- 
posure. It has been truly said that never had a man 
stood before so imposing an assembly. The Emperor, 
Charles V., whose sovereignty extended over the greater 
part of the Old World and parts of the New, his brother, 
the Arch-Duke Ferdinand, six Electors, most of whose 
descendants wore, or now wear, kingly crowns ; 



j#8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

twenty-four dukes, ruling over small but independent 
countries : the Duke of Alva and his two sons ; eight 
margraves, thirty arch-bishops, bishops and abbots, 
seven ambassadors, deputies from ten free cities, 
princes, counts and sovereign barons, the Papal nuncios 
— in all two hundred and four persons ; such was the 
imposing court before which appeared Martin Luther. 

Let us pause a moment to see where we stand. 
. The Pope had condemned this man, and yet he stood 
at the bar of a tribunal which, by summoning him be- 
fore it, had placed itself above the Pope. This was a 
victory. He had been cut off from all human society 
by the interdict of the Pope, yet he was summoned here 
in respectful language, and received before the most 
august assembly of the world. This also was a victory. 
He had been condemned to perpetual silence ; by impe- 
rial authority he was now to speak before kings, princes, 
and listening thousands. His voice had been hushed by 
Papal command ; now it was to ring to the uttermost 
parts of Christendom. Rome was descending from her 
throne, and it was the voice of a monk that summoned 
her. 

The sun was near his setting. The level rays pour- 
ing through the high, arched windows, fell in mellow 
light upon the yellow silken robes of Charles, his string 
of pearls, waving plumes, and order of the Golden 
Fleece. They brought out in almost barbaric splendor 
the variously colored dresses of the members of the 
Diet— velvet and ermine, red hat and scarlet gown — the 
violet of the Bishop, the rich doublet of the knights, and 
burnished steel of the warriors. It was a scene never to 
be forgotten ; and in its midst stood Luther in a monk's 
frock. 

John Eck arose, and in sonorous tones repeated in 



Luther's Reply. 349 

Latin, and then in German, these words: "Martin 
Luther, his sacred and invincible Majesty has cited you 
before his throne with advice of the Council of States 
of the Holy Roman Empire to answer two questions. 
First, do you acknowledge these books," pointing to a 
pile of books upon the table, "to have been written by 
you? Secondly, do you retract and disavow the opin- 
ions you have advanced in them? " 

Luther was on the point of replying to the first ques- 
tion, when his friend Schurf hastily demanded that the 
titles of the books be read. This being done, Luther 
replied in a low voice, frankly acknowledging their 
authorship in these words : 

' ' Most gracious Emperor, and most gracious Princes 
and Lords, the books that have just been named are 
mine ; but as to your second question, seeing it is a mat- 
ter which concerns the salvation of souls, and in which 
the Word of God — than which nothing is greater in 
heaven or on earth — is interested, I should act impru- 
dently were I to reply without reflection. I entreat 3-our 
imperial Majesty, with all humility, to allow me time, 
that I may reply without offending against the Word of 
God." 

This reply was wise and cautious, but it filled his ene- 
mies with the hope of triumph. "He will retract!" 
" He played the heretic at Wittenberg ; at Worms he 
plays the penitent." But the}' did not know Luther. 
His pause was the act of one who had already made up 
his mind. But he wished to choose his time, his method, 
and the circumstances ; in order that the avowal might 
bear the concentrated strength of all his forces, and ap- 
pear to be irrevocable. The Diet granted one day's 
delay. To-morrow at four o'clock, he must give his 



j JO Young People's History of Protestantism. 

final answer. Luther bowed, and was conducted from 
the hall. 

The Emperor had not taken his e} T es from Luther's 
face. His worn frame and thin visage, still bearing 
traces of his illness, the majesty of his address, and the 
simplicity of his costume and action, contrasted so 
strongly with the theatrical airs of those surrounding 
him, that the young Emperor lightly said, " Certainty, 
that monk will never make a heretic of me." 

The morning of the 18th dawned, and found the par- 
ties on both sides actively preparing for the encounter. 

It would be unjust to Luther to suppose that his human 
nature did not shrink from the ordeal. He shrank from 
it in almost terror. As he himself informs us, that on 
the " way to Worms he was often seized with fears and 
trembling." The suffering he endured as he passed 
through these awful scenes was incredible. The iron 
firmness of this man, the physical nerve and intrepidity 
of spirit which he manifested, were all dependent upon 
his sense of the indwelling of God's spirit. Here, on 
this eventful morning, he seemed deserted. He thought 
he was forsaken. A horror of great darkness filled his 
soul. He had come to Worms to perish. It was not the 
terror of the stake, nor the thought that he must die, 
which shook his firm-set faith ; but rather that the grand 
crisis had come, and he was not able to meet it. The 
upholding power which had hitherto sustained him, had 
departed. What will he do ? He feels himself called 
to hold the pass — the grand Thermopylae of the Chris- 
tian ages — one man against the world. The wavering 
pulses of faith are still, watching the result. Can he fill 
the gap ? Where is his two-edged sword of the Spirit ? 
His hand seeks vainly for its hilt. He will fail. He 
will blast the hopes of future ages, and the enemies of 



The Diet Agitated. 



35* 



Christ and his Cross will triumph. Draw near his closet 
door, and listen to his supplications: "Lord, where 
staj'est thou? . O my God, where art thou? 

I am ready to lay down my life, patient as a Lamb. 
. . For it is the cause of justice. ... It 
is thine." For hours he poured forth such cries to God, 
and standing upon the shores of time, he seemed to be 
communing with eternity — the seen touched the unseen 
— earth and heaven met The veil was rent. His hand 
grasped the sword, and he felt the Spirit's thrill in the 
valiant arm which stiffened for the contest. The ter- 
restrial actor became the agent of heaven — which from 
him was not far away. He stood in the Eternal pres- 
ence ; he walked upon mysterious and holy ground. 

Four o'clock came, and he was led again through the 
crowded streets to the hall. The Diet was in session, 
He must wait in the ante-room An hour passed, and 
still another. The door is thrown open. Luther is 
called to enter. Kingly amidst kings, he awaited their 
challenge. Dr. Eck demanded his answer. What a 
moment ! The fate of future ages hangs upon his lips. 
The Diet is agitated. The Emperor leans forward, and 
fixes a keen eye upon him. The princes are motionless. 
The guards are silent. All are eager to catch the first 
words of this monk. 

Not forgetting for a moment the dignity with which 
he ever tempered his address, Luther salutes the Em- 
peror, princes and lords graciously. He begins his ad- 
dress in a "full, firm, but modest tone." The author- 
ship of the volumes he acknowledges, as on the preced- 
ing day, and adds that his writings therein contained 
are divided into three classes. 

First, those in which he had plainly expounded the 
first principles of faith and morals ; his enemies conced- 



3 52 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ing that he had done so conformably to Scriptural truth, 
and that all might read them with profit. To deny 
these would be to deny what all admit, yes, even to deny 
the essential truths upon which Christian society was 
based. 

Second, that in which he had waged war against the 
Papacy. He had attacked errors in doctrine, scandals 
in life, and tyranny in ecclesiastical administration. 
These abuses had entangled and fettered the consciences 
of men, had blinded their reason, and depraved their 
morals. They must themselves acknowledge it to be so. 
On every hand rose the cry of oppression. Evils, both 
temporal and spiritual, were desolating Christendom. 
Should he retract his writings against these? What 
would happen ? Would not the oppressor grow more in- 
solent? With broader license, would not those perni- 
cious doctrines be propagated which had already de- 
stroyed so many souls ? Would not grievous exactions 
multipl}', and iniquitous extortions impoverish the sub- 
stance of Germany, transferring its wealth to Italy? 
Nay ! The yoke would grow heavier by his retraction. 
A retraction made in the presence of his Serene Majesty 
would legalize and sanction forever the yoke which now 
bowed the nations to the earth. 

"I should," said he, "be the most unhappj' of men. I 
should have sanctioned the very iniquities which I have 
denounced. I should rear a bulwark around those op 
pressions which I have sought to overthrow. Instead of 
lightening the burdens of my countrymen, I should make 
them ten times heavier, and I myself become a cloak to 
cover ever} T form of tyranny. 

"Third, these writings in which I have attacked per- 
sons who put themselves forward as defenders of those 
errors which corrupt the faith, the scandals which dis- 



Luther's Grandeur. jjj 

grace the priesthood, and the exactions which rob the 
people and grind them in the dust. 

4 'I may not have treated these individuals with much 
ceremony. I may have assailed them with an acrimony 
unbecoming my profession ; but, although rny manner 
be fault}*, the thing itself is right, and I cannot retract it. 
That would be to justify them in their errors, and sanc- 
tion their impieties and iniquities. 

"But," continued he, "I am a man, and not God. I 
would defend myself only as did Christ. If I have 
evil spoken or written, let them bear witness of the evil. 
I am but dust and ashes, liable to err at every moment, 
and therefore it well becomes me to invite all men to 
examine what I have written, and object, if the}* have 
aught against it. Convince me by right reason and the 
Word of God that I am in error, and I shall need not to 
be twice asked to retract ; my own hand shall be the 
first to cast my books into the flames." 

But Luther was too grand in his attitude of Reformer 
to stop with his own defence. He forgot himself, his 
peril, in the vision which his eye caught as it glanced 
along the lines of his imagination toward the future. 
His voice rose strong, and swept through the great 
hall, fascinating by its eloquence and emotion every soul, 
as he warned that assembly of monarchs of a judgment 
to come, not to be delayed until beyond the grave, but 
realized in time. They were on trial. They, their 
kingdoms, their crowns, their dynasties, stood at the 
great Bar. It was the day in which was to be deter- 
mined whether they were planted in the earth, and there 
forever to flourish, or whether their houses should be 
swept away like sand-built structures and their thrones 
swallowed in a deluge of wrath and eternal desolation. 

Egypt, Babylon, Nineveh, so mighty in their day, 



3J4 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

fought against God, and brought upon themselves utter 
ruin. 

"These are your examples ; take heed that ye escape 
the destruction which overtook them. You should fear 
lest the reign of this young and noble prince, on whom 
we build such lofty expectations, should begin and con- 
tinue and close under the most gloomy auspices. I 
might speak of the Pharaohs, the kings of Bab}ion and 
Israel, whose labors never more effectually contributed 
to their own destruction than when they sought by coun- 
sels to strengthen their own dominions. 'God remove th 
mountains, and the}' know it not, who overturneth them 
in his anger.' " After resting for a few moments, Luther 
arose and delivered the same speech in Latin, occupying 
in all two hours. 

To their amazement the princes found their prisoner 
had become their judge. Luther was not at their bar, 
but they at his. The glitter of the crowns they wore, 
the terror of the armies they commanded, inspired no 
tear. One man against a world, he stood entreating, 
admonishing, and reproving with a wholesome fidelity, 
fearing not to thunder forth their doom, if they proved 
disobedient ; with a solemnity and an authority before 
which they trembled. "Be wise, } T e kings." 

Glance backward at the history of empires since that 
day, and note its records by the light of Luther's words. 
We shall have occasion to recall them later on. 

At the conclusion of Luther's address, Dr. Eck arose 
and peevishly exclaimed : "You have not answered the 
questions put to you. We did not call you here to 
question the authority of Councils. We demand a direct 
and precise answer,— will you retract or not?" 

Unmoved, Luther replied : " Since your most Serene 
Majesty, and your High Mightiness require from me a 



The Monk's NO. 355 

direct and precise answer, I will give you one, and it is 
this : I cannot submit my faith to either Pope or Coun- 
cils, because it is as clear as day that they have fre- 
quently erred and contradicted each other. Unless I 
am convinced by Scripture, or the clear grounds of rea- 
son, so that conscience shall bind me to make acknowl- 
edgment of error, I can and will not retract, for it is 
neither safe nor wise to do anything contrary to con- 
science." And then, looking around calmly upon the 
august assembly, he spake the words which are amongst 
the sublimest in history: "Here I stand. I can do 
no other. May God help me. Amen." 

Three centuries have thrilled with these words, and 
still they ring undiminished throughout Christendom. 

The impression they made was overpowering, and 
elicited applause even among the princes. But not 
from all. The Monk's "No" had fallen like a thunder- 
bolt upon the Papal partisans. It would be heard out- 
side of that hall ; it would sweep southward to the equa- 
tor, and northward to the shores of the frozen sea. It 
would travel the whole breadth of Christendom, and 
awaken aspirations of liberty as it rolled onward. It 
would summon the nations to rise and break the yoke of 
Eome, and then return with awful reverberations to 
thunder out her doom. Rome had lost the battle. Burn 
Luther if she would, it mattered nothing. The word 
had gone forth, and that "No" was the defense of all 
the nations of Christendom. A stake and flame-wrought 
shroud could not reverse the decision, or mitigate their 
defeat. It could only enhance the victory which Luther 
had won. 

What could be done ? 

Luther was bidden to withdraw. The Diet deliberated. 
They resolved to give him one more opportunity. Ac- 



jj6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

cordingly he returned. Now the third and last time he 
is called upon to pronounce the word — his Yes or No. 
With grave simplicity he answered : "I have no other 
answer to give than that which I have already given." 
The assembly read the stern, indomitable resolve of the 
soul, in the calm voice, the steadfastness of the eye, and 
the leonine lines of the rugged German face. The No 
would never be recalled. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

LUTHER AT THE WARTBURG. 

Hitherto the current of our narration has been in the 
main continuous. The development of the Protestant 
movement, like a rapid river, was between well defined 
banks. It now must widen. The "No" which Luther 
had uttered is heard throughout Christendom. The 
Papacy, which anticipated an easy triumph over the 
monk, must now protect the crumbling battlements of 
its own faith. Our vision must widen to survey the 
broad stage of Christendom, to note the varied forms 
and the diversified results in which Protestantism dis- 
plays itself. We shall find it necessaiy to note new re- 
ligious centres which it has planted, and currents of 
thought which it has created. A new social life has 
been brought to birth ; letters and arts have found in it 
a nurse ; new communities and states have been founded ; 
prosperity has dawned upon the nations, and the aspect 
of Europe has become vastly unlike what it had been for 
a thousand 3-ears. Briefly, however, we will enumerate 
the events immediately following the Diet of Worms, 
and glance at the advancing movement of Protestantism 
before we leave Luther in the seclusion of his mountain 
"Patmos." 

"The Diet meets again to-morrow to hear the decision 
of the Emperor," said Chancellor Eck. 

The darkened streets through which the princes sought 



35 8 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

their homes were not deserted. Crowds still lingered in 
the precincts of the Diet, eager to know the end. 
Luther appears between two officers. 

"See! See!" shout the bystanders; "they are lead- 
ing him to prison !" 

"No," replied Luther; "they are leading me to rny 
hotel." 







WATER-SPOUT ON LUTHER'S HOUSE. 



Immediately the crowds disperse, and the silence of 
night settles upon the city. Spalatin followed Luther 
to his lodging, there to exchange congratulations, when 
a servant enters bearing a silver jug of beer, who pre- 
sented it to Luther, saying : 

"My master desires you to refresh yourself with this 
draught." 



After the Diet. jjg 

"Who is this prince who thus graciously remembers 
me ?" asked Luther. 

"It is the aged Duke Eric of Brunswick," replied the 
page. 

This same duke was one of the Papal members of the 
Diet. 

The Elector Frederick was delighted with the appear- 
ance Luther had made before the Diet. His intrepid 
bearing, respectful address, the eloquence of his words, 
the pertinacity of his thought, had made a deep impres- 
sion not only upon the sovereign of Saxony, but many 
other noble princes of the Diet. From the hour that 
Luther uttered his courageous "No," these princes were 
friends not only to him, but to the Reformation. Some 
declared their adherence to him at the time, others in 
after years. The mortification of the Papal party was 
great. They redoubled their efforts. They laid snares 
to entrap him. They invited him to private conferences. 
Proposal after proposal, framed with insidious intent, 
were submitted to him, but the Reformer could not be 
overcome. 

At the meeting of the Diet next day, in a proclama- 
tion written by his own hand, the Emperor rendered his 
decision. 

"A single monk," he says, "misled by his own folly, 
has risen against the fate of Christendom. To slay such 
impiety I will sacrifice my kingdom, my treasures, my 
friends, my blood, my life and my soul. I am about to 
dismiss Martin Luther. I shall then proceed against 
him and his followers as heretics, by excommunication, 
by interdict, and by every means calculated to destroy 
them." 

This is truly a spectacle. A king, a nation, the 
Papal hierarch}*, all arrayed against one man, and he a 



j6o Young People's History of Protestantism. 

poor monk, without fortune and with but few friends. 
But the zeal of Charles outran his powers. It was 
necessary that the consent of the States be obtained. 
Even the attitude of the Diet showed this to be impossi- 
ble. In a moment two parties joined issue. The Papal 
party demanded that Luther's safe-conduct be disre- 
garded, but the Elector Palatine denounced with abhor- 
rence this atrocious proposal. Duke George, Luther's 
avowed enemy, repudiated with greater emphasis the 
proposed infamy. They held it impossible that the 
princes of Germany should entertain so base a thought, 
and the proposition was expelled the Diet with scorn 
and indignation. 

Had the Papal party planted the Reformer's stake, 
there were men at arms amounting to thousands, led by 
men of noble blood, who would have declared war at the 
sunrise which would follow his burning. Had Charles 
violated that safe-conduct, his first would have proved 
his last Diet. The fortunes of his Empire were already 
imperiled. The mutterings of a war with France were 
heard upon the borders. The Emperor could not trust 
the Pope implicitly, who had just now concluded secret 
treaties with Charles and Francis, pledging his aid to 
both, but with characteristic deceit, determining to give 
it to the one who should effectually aid himself. In the 
midst of these conflicting circumstances Luther was 
allowed to depart in peace. On the morning of the 26th 
of April, surrounded by a party of gentlemen on horse- 
back and a vast crowd of citizens, he passed out of 
those gates through which no man expected to see him 
come alive. A few days after his departure the edict 
against him was issued, placing him outside the pale of 
law ; commanding men to withhold tood and drink, suc- 
<or and shelter, and to return him, bound, to Worms. 



Luther is pulled from the Wagon. j6i 

The edict culminated in these words: "This man is 
not a man, hut Satan himself under the form of a man, 
and dressed in a monk's frock." Luther entered Worms 
with one sword hanging over his head — the anathema of 
the Pope. He leaves it with two swords unsheathed 
against him — the Pope's excommunication and the Em- 
peror's ban. By the latter he is denied a place of rest 
on earth ; by the former a place of rest in heaven. 
Meanwhile, Luther is quietl}- traversing the mountains of 
the Black Forest. He is surrounded by the scenes ot 
his youth. Many of his friends leave him to pursue his 
way to Eisenach while they go on to Wittenberg ; Ams- 
dorff alone remains with him. As he passes northward, 
beyond the town of Mora, he finds himself completely 
surrounded by masked horsemen, heavily armed, who 
rush suddenly upon him. His wagon is stopped, the 
driver is thrown to the ground, Amsdorff is made a 
prisoner. Luther is pulled from the wagon, raised to a 
saddle, and a horseman, grasping his bridle rein, 
plunges quickly with him into the forest of Thuringia. 
All day long, hither and thither, as if to defy pursuit, 
the little troop of horsemen wander in the woods. As 
the night falls they begin to ascend the hill. Before 
midnight they stand under the walls of a castle which 
crowns the summit. A drawbridge falls. A portcullis 
is raised, and passing in, the troopers dismount, and 
lead the captive up a single flight of steps, and usher 
him into an apartment where he is told he must make a 
sojourn of unknown length. Meanwhile he must lay 
aside his monk's frock, attire himself in the costume of a 
knight, and respond only to the name of Knight George. 
When the morning broke upon his slumber Luther 
glanced from his casement to take in with delighted 
eye the hamlets and well-known scenes which adjoin 



J62 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Eisenach and surround the castle of the Wartburg. He 
knew that he was in friendly keeping. 

The Pope had launched his bolt. The Emperor had 
raised his hand to strike. On every side destruction 
awaited him. In that moment Luther has become in- 
visible. One moment the centre of all eyes in Europe, 
the next moment borne away as upon the whirlwind, no 
one knew whither except his captors, and in all Ger- 
many none could tell if he be dead or alive. 

The Papal thunder is harmless now. The flashing 
sword of State cleaves empty air. The scenes have 
shifted, and the stage is dark. The great actors, — em- 
perors, princes, ecclesiastics and ambassadors, with 
flashing robes and brazen trumpets, crowded the arena. 
Mighty intents were in conflict, pregnant with mighty 
issues. The tumultuous restlessness which precedes the 
outburst of a storm was upon the air. A mighty catas- 
trophe seemed impending. But in a moment the throng 
vanishes, the action is arrested, the Papal thunder dies, 
the flashing sword is stayed, a deep silence succeeds the 
tumult, and in the hush we listen to the unfettered 
prayer of nations to Him who sitteth upon the Flood. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

MOVEMENTS IN ENGLAND. 

In our last chapter we left Luther in the Wartburg. 
In a moment of great peril an asylum had opened for 
him, not that he might live idly or be forgotten, but to 
do a work in the seclusion of these walls essential to the 
future of Protestantism. We leave him to his toil and 
to the temporary silence which has fallen upon him, and 
return to England, to glance briefly at those events 
which have occurred in the one hundred and fifty years 
that divide Wy cliff e from Luther. 

Wycliffe indeed was dead ; but his thoughts were still 
living in other men's minds. The principles which he 
enunciated still held the hearts of the people. His 
teachings had spread widel} T ; his disciples — sometimes 
called Wycliffltes, sometimes Lollards, — traversed the 
kingdom, preaching the gospel. Ity imperial edict of 
Richard II. these men had been forbidden even from the 
days of Wj-cliffe ; still they persevered, and their coun- 
trjmaen flocked to their sermons. Soldiers, mingling 
with civilians, stood with hand upon the sword-hilt, 
ready to defend the preacher should violence be offered. 
Nobility joined their ranks, and was not ashamed to 
confess itself a disciple of the gospel. Wherever 
these doctrines were embraced a reformation in manners, 
and often a purging of the public worship, followed. 
These were signs of promise, but misconstrued by the 
Reformers themselves. They believed that England was 



364 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ready to throw off the yoke of Rome, and ten years after 
the death of Wycliffe they petitioned Parliament for a 
reformation in religion. But England was not ready 
for the ''plainness of speech" of these men. The masses 
of the people ; without instruction, awed by tradi- 
tion and ruled by a hierarchy, were inert and hostile. 
These earnest men forgot that it was impossible to legis- 
late a reformation, just as the French at one time forgot 
that they could not legislate God out of the universe. 
Royal proclamations or Parliamentary edicts cannot do 
the work of the patient evangelists or the blood of mar- 
tyrs. The harvest of truth is the slowest of all harvests 
to ripen ; most plentiful and precious of all when it has 
come to maturity. 

This action of the Wycliffites delayed the movement. 
The priests became alarmed, and implored the king to 
proceed against them. He accordingly forbade the Par- 
liament to grant the petition of the Lollards, and threat- 
ened with death all who should continue to defend their 
opinions. Short indeed was Richard's persecution. He 
was soon deposed and imprisoned. The way was often 
short between the prisons and the graves of princes. 
He perished of starvation, to be succeeded by Henry 
IV., during, whose reign the first law was passed in Eng- 
land adjudging men to death for religion : which was 
"that all incorrigible heretics should be burned alive." 
This law did not remain long a dead letter. William 
Sawtre, "a good man and faithful priest," was appre- 
hended, and an indictment preferred against him. The 
charge was : — "That he will not worship the cross on 
which Christ suffered, but only Christ who suffered upon 
he cross. That after pronouncing the sacramental 
words of the bod}' of Christ the bread remaineth of the 
same nature that it was before, neither doth it cease to 



First Protestant Mar try. 



365 



be bread." He was condemned as a heretic, and deliv- 
ered to the secular power to be burned. As he was the 
first Protestant to be put to death in England, the cere- 
mony of his degradation was formally gone through with, 

1 




i. Rack. 2. Beheading block and axe. 3. Irons for neck, wrists and legs: 
4. Manacles for legs. 5. Collar. 6. Thumb- screws. 

as in the case of Huss. 

Disqualified for the ministry, unrobed, debarred from 
the sacrificial altars of Eome, he now ascended an altar 
fco make a sacrifice more costly than any seen in Roman 



j66 Young People's History of Protestantism . 

temples. The altar was a stake ; the sacrifice was him- 
self. As England sent out the first great Reformer, so 
had she likewise the honor of giving the first martyr to 
Protestantism, on the 12th of February, 1401. "This 
martyrdom was significant of much" — to Protestantism 
a pledge of victory, to Rome a prognostic of defeat. 
The blood of the martyrs became the seed of the church, 
seed which yielded fruit a hundred grains for one. Prot- 
estantism had made England's soil her own by burying 
in it her martyred dead. In struggle, in blood, in seem- 
ing defeat, the conflict may be prolonged through dark 
years and gloomy centuries, but it will eventually 
triumph. 

Many of those early sufferers, to whom England owes 
her freedom and her faith, have been forgotten, but the 
diligence of the ancient chroniclers have saved from ob- 
livion the name of one who perished on the 14th of 
March, 1409. Arraigned on the morning for final sen- 
tence, he confessed his opinions to be, that bread conse- 
crated by the priest was still bread, and that the hum- 
blest man there present was of greater estimation than 
the sacrament of the altar. Of course this was too 
rational a reply for the men of the times, and he was im- 
mediately condemned to death. In the afternoon the 
fire was lighted. Being placed in an empty barrel, he 
was bound b} r chains to a stake, having dry wood placed 
around him. At this moment the Prince, afterwards 
Henry V., appeared in the crowd. Pitying the man's 
dreadful position, he drew near and exhorted him to 
forsake his opinions and save his life. This he declined 
to do. Amidst the fagots that were to consume him he 
made the same confession — "it was hallowed bread, not 
God's body." The priests withdrew, the torch was ap- 
plied, the sharp flames began to prey upon the martyr's 



What! Turn Back Now. 



367 



limbs. The Prince still lingered at the scene of the 
tragedy. A short wail from the stake, and he com- 
manded the fires to be extinguished. The executioners 
obeyed. Again the Prince implored the half burned 
man to recant, and he would not only save him from the 
fire, but give him a }~early stipend of threepence a day 
out of his own private coffers during his life. "What ! 




SMITHFIELD. 

turn back now, when the gates are opening to receive me ? 
No ! not for all the gold of England ! I sup to-night with a 
greater Prince." The fires were rekindled, and the 
wind-blown ashes of John Badby mingled with the dust 
of Smithfield. 

Violence, however, could not terrify these disciples of 
the truth. The stakes which were planted at Smithfield, 



j68 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

and the edict of "burning" which was engrossed on the 
statute books, taught them that the task of winning 
England was not so easy as they had dreamed. But 
this conviction fired their zeal, and strengthened their 
courage. Whenever a cause finds martyrs, it has power 
enough to overcome any force on earth, and will convert 
the world. 

The simple evangelical creed of these Christians of 
the fifteenth century might well be studied with profit 
to-day. Its few and simple articles led directly to the 
grand centre of truth, which is Christ. Compared with 
what surrounded them, these men walked in the light. 
Many things they saw but dimly. It was only the gray 
dawn of the morning. 

The full day will come, but it still delays. Great 
light will flash across the sky of spiritual truth, but in 
another century. Mists and shadows of the night must 
play about the morning ; clouds must roll upward and 
disappear before the sun ; but bathed in light, even to 
their newly opened ej^es, was that portion of the field 
whereon stood the Cross, with its great Sacrifice lifted 
up upon it. This they clasped to their hearts, with the 
cry of Paul, "I am crucified with Christ." If these men 
held what, in one sense, was a narrow and limited s} T s- 
tem, consisting of but a very few facts, it was, in an- 
other sense, perfect, for it contained the germ and cen- 
tral point of all theology. In the authority of the Scrip- 
tures as the absolute word of God ; in the death of Christ 
as a perfect atonement for human guilt, they had found 
those fundamental truths from which all that is essential 
must follow. They leaned upon the cross, and looked 
upward. But they must go forward. Upon the path 
which they had entered these two lights alone should 



General Council at Pisa in 14.09. 



369 



guide them, and their vision would grow wider, while the 
light, falling upon objects which these great truths em- 
braced, would grow continually clearer ; the relations of 
truth to truth would be more easily traced, until at last 
the whole would grow into a perfect system, linked in 
beautiful order around the grand central truth of Jesus 




PISA. 

Christ, the Son of God. 

We pass over the events in the Papal world to which 
we have before alluded, with but brief comment. The 
General Council at Pisa in 1409, by which the two Popes 
who were wrangling over the chair of Peter were deposed ; 
the short and bloody death of Alexander V. ; the schism 
not onlv not healed, but wider than ever ; the scandals 



370 



Young People's History of P> otestantism. 



and mischiefs far from being extinguished or even abated, 
but greatly aggravated ; and a few years later the General 
Council assembling at Constance, — all these we must 
leave undeveloped. 




SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE, LORD COBHAM. 

The well which Wycliffe had digged at Oxford was 
still flowing. It must be stopped. He had kindled a 
light in his vernacular Bible which was still burning ; it 
must be extinguished. To accomplish these two ob- 



" The Tolling of Aves." 371 

jects Arundel, Bishop of St. Paul, set himself. Oxford 
especially demanded the primate's attention. He set out 
with a pompous retinue to visit this famous seat of learn- 
ing, but was denied admittance. Through the inter- 
ference of the King the door of Oxford was opened to the 
arch-bishop. With one hand Arundel fought against the 
infant Protestantism of England ; with the other, he 
strove to revive Catholicism, and to this end he estab- 
lished in the honor of Mary, mother of God, "the tolling 
of Aves." 

There are some who would doubtless smile at the de- 
vices of the arch-bishop to strengthen Popery, but we 
are inclined to think that the astute Arundel knew what 
he was about. "The Church" became the prominent 
thing, ever present to the Englishmen of that age. 
"She awoke them from slumber in the morning; she 
sung them to repose at night. Her chimes were in their 
ears, her symbols before their eyes, all the daylong." 
Every time they kissed an image, repeated an Ave, or 
crossed themselves with holy water, they strengthened 
the fetter which dulled the intellect and bound the soul. 
Persecutions did not cease. The pursuit of heretics was 
more strict and their treatment more cruel. The prisons 
in the bishops' houses were provided with instruments of 
torture. The Lollards' Tower at Lambeth still bears, in 
brief but touching phrase, the uneffaced records of their 
patience and their faith. Many weak in the faith' and ter- 
rified by violence, recanted ; but not all, else England 
were to-day what Spain is. So passed the early 3-ears of 
English Protestantism. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

POLITICAL MOVEMENTS IN ENGLAND. 

The stroke of apoplexy which carried Henry IV. to 
the grave raised Henry V. from the riot of pleasure, the 
frolic of debauchery and the outrage of wine to the throne 
of England. It was his misfortune, who meant so well 
by his people, not to know the true source whence a real 
reformation can proceed. The crafty Arundel was by 
his side, leading the Prince into the same paths in which 
his father had walked. Protestant blood still continued 
to flow, and new victims smouldered to ashes on the 
sands of Smithfield. The most noble of the Protestants 
of this reign was Sir John Oldcastle, who by marriage 
had become Lord Cobham. A reveller in youth, Lord 
Cobham had become, through the study of the Bible 
and WyclihVs writings, a devout Christian, filled with 
knightly virtues, bravery and honor. He had borne 
arms under Henry IV., in France, and was no less 
esteemed by the son, Henry V. His castle was the 
headquarters of Lollard preachers, he often attending 
their sermons, standing sword in hand at the preacher's 
side, to defend him from the insults of the friars. 

The Archbishop complained to Henry, who sent for 
Cobham and exhorted him to forsake his notions and 
return to the mother church. "You most worthy Prince," 
was the reply, "I am always prompt and willing to obey. 
Unto you, next to God, I owe my whole obedience and 
submit me thereunto ; but as touching the Pope and his 
spirituality, truly I owe him neither suit nor service, for 



Arrest of Cobham. jyj- 

as I know him by the Scriptures to be the great anti- 
Christ, the open adversary of God and the abomination 
standing in the holy place." At these words Henry's 
hatred of heresy overcame his love for Cobham, and he 
consented that the Archbishop should proceed against 
him according to the laws of the church. Cobham was 
accordingly summoned to trial on September 2d. Acting 
on the principle that he owed neither "suit nor service" 
to the Pope or his vassals, Cobham paid no attention to 
the summons. Arundel next prepared citations, which 
were posted on the gates of Cowling Castle and in the 
Cathedral of Rochester. These were immediately torn 
down by Cobham's friends, and the authority of the 
church was derided. The Archbishop, fearing lest the 
church be brought into contempt, unsheathed her ancient 
weapon against the defiant knight and at once excom- 
municated the great Lollard, but this did not subdue 
him. A third time was he commanded to appear, but 
the citations were contemptuously torn up. Cobham had 
a stout heart, loyal to the core. He drew up a state, 
ment of his faith, simple, spiritual and brief, basing it 
upon the Apostles' Creed. This he carried to the king, 
asking to have it examined by the most godly men of 
the realm, but Henry refused to look at it. Cobham at 
once proposed what would seem quite startling to a mod- 
ern divine, — to bring a hundred knights into the field 
against an equal number on the side of his accusers, and 
settle the question by force of arms, or else, said he, "I 
will fight myself for life or death in the quarrel of my 
faith with any man living except the King and his Coun- 
cil." To the everlasting shame of the King he suffered 
Cobham to be seized in his privy chamber, and impris- 
oned in the Tower. On Sept. 23rd, 1413, Lord Cobham 



J/6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

was brought before the Bishop's Court for trial, in St. 
Paul. He was offered absolution if he would submit 
and confess. After a protracted trial he was judged 
worthy of death, and his execution was to take place in 
fifty days. He escaped from the Tower where he was 
imprisoned, and fled to Wales. It was not until four 
years had passed that Cobham's hiding-place was dis- 
covered by Lord Powis, who, prompted by avarice, be- 




JOHN FOXE. 

trayed him to his pursuers, and received as a reward 
one thousand marks. The brave old man resisted arrest, 
and in the scuffle his leg was broken. In a maimed con- 
dition he was carried to London, and the Parliament be- 
ing at that time sitting, judged him as a traitor to the 
King and realm,and condemned him to be hung upon "the 
new gallows at Temple Bar, and burned hanging." With 



Early Flays. 



377 



iron chains around the waist, he was suspended above a 
slow fire, and suffered the double torture of hanging and 
burning. 

A somewhat curious incident relative to this martyr is 
found in a volume entitled Her Majesty's Tower. The 
monks and friars who wrote our earliest plays, and acted 
those dumb shows called pantomimes, caricatured and 




HOOKER, 



lampooned this first English Peer who died a Protestant 
martyr. From fair to fair, from inn-yard to inn-yard he 
was portrayed as a braggart and a poltroon. From this, 
he came to figure in the same character in Shakespeare's 
plays. But the great dramatist learned later the true 
character of the man. and struck out the name ^Oldcas- 
tle" to insert in the place of it ••FalstarrV' 



378 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Chains, gallows and fire, not pleasant things, and 
death by them not precious in the eyes of men, yet 
some of the noblest that have lived have endured them, 
have worn the chain, mounted the gallows, withered at 
the stake, and in this guise, enduring the doom of felons, 
have achieved victories as grand and as fruitful as an}* 
found in the records of the world. 

Henry V. won Agincourt. What better are we? 
French and English blood was poured out in seas on the 
plains of France. What is it to us? Fame's trumpet 
blew a brazen blast ; the chanters sang many ballads ; 
a page in history was blazoned, and what more when 
you reckon it up? But for the blood of Cobham, Badby 
and ot Sawtre, where would have been the Protestantism 
of England? And without its Protestantism, where 
would have been its liberty? Still unborn. It was not 
the valor of Henry V., but the grander heroism of those 
early martyrs, which plucked the bandage of darkness 
from English eyes, and tore the yoke of slavery from its 
neck. The world has laid its homage at the feet of 
Henry V. Is it not rather due to those who made liberty 
of thought and freedom of worship our present posses- 
sion ? England owes her debt of gratitude not so much 
to those who lived in stately palaces, and now sleep in 
marble tombs, as to those whose lives went out upon the 
scaffold, while the mob hooted, and the executioner did 
his office, and whose dust was borne outward by the 
TLiames, or mingled with the wind-blown sands of 
Smithfield. 

We pass over the Protestant movement under the 
reigns of Henry V. and VI., noting only the constant 
persecution under which it suffered, the increased sever- 
ity of the edicts formulated against it, and the in- 
creased intolerance of the Romish Church. The terrible 



The Situation. j/g 

civil and political tempests which were hastening the 
world toward the establishment of freedom, seemed to 
culminate near the middle of the fifteenth century ; than 
which no point in modern history presents a scene of 
more universal turmoil and calamity. Nowhere is there 
stability or rest. All nations appear like the great sea 
when its waters are swollen into huge billows by the 
force of mighty winds, and assailing the very founda- 
tions of the earth. The armies of the Turk were gath- 
ering around Constantinople, and the proud queen of 
the East was about to bow her head and sink before a 
tempest of pillage, rapine and blood. 

Bohemia watered, as with a plenteous rain, with Ger- 
man blood, was gloomy and silent. Germany was 
lamenting the flower of her youth slaughtered on ill- 
starred battle-fields. Italy, divided into principalities, 
was ceaselessly torn by the ambitions of petty rulers, 
and hushed to intestine peace only to be ravaged by a 
foreign invader. The magnificent cities of Spain were 
being drained of their inhabitants to furnish the Crusades 
of bigotry. The noon of Papal power was illustrated, 
not by calm splendor and tranquil joys, but by tempest 
and battle and destruction. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

PROTESTANTISM IN SWITZERLAND. 

On New Year's day, 1584, in the Canton of Appen- 
zell, in the village of Wilhhaus, was born a son to a man 
named Huldric Zwingle. Around that cottage, which 
may still be seen standing in a green meadow, about a 
mile from the church, the mountains rose grandly, above 
the temperature of the vine and the barley, almost into 
the cold silence of perpetual snows. It was a romantic 
landscape, and to this day it continues to be the Mecca 
of sun-burned travellers, who seek among the crags and 
snows of Switzerland refreshment from the heat and las- 
situde of more tropical levels. 

It was a time of turbulence amidst these mountain 
homes. Never in the range of their most romantic his- 
tory had the Swiss Cantons felt the thrill of some great 
coming event as now. It was a remarkable era. 

To meet great emergencies Providence seems to have 
summoned a galaxy of noble minds and sublime intel- 
lects upon the theatre of action, and these States shall 
not want a champion. As in their landscape, so in their 
character there is a blending of the hardy and heroic — 
a tempering of the soul to chivalric feats of arms, as 
well as a display of nature's most wonderful moods. 
Beauty and terror, softness and ruggedness, exquisite 
loveliness and savage, appalling sublimity, are blended 
into a panorama of stupendous magnificence. The same 
characteristics dominate the people. The wild mountain 
tempests have taught them endurance. The terrors of 



In Switzerland. j8i 

the avalanche have taught them self-denial, and schooled 
them to daring. Passionately fond of their country, 
they rush to battle, and triumph against tremendous odds. 
From tending their flocks on dizzy heights that skirt the 
eternal snows, the first summons brings them down into 
the valleys, transforms them into mail-clad warriors, be- 
fore the impetuosity of whose onset the invader recoils 
as before certain death. 

But a new age has come. A new warfare has begun 
which stirs their deep souls, and kindles in their Swiss 
hearts a lofty enthusiasm. They see that Rome has laid 
upon them a yoke more grievous far than to at imposed 
by the House of Hapsburg. An iron is entering their 
souls. Shall they resist it, or bow themselves as the 
weak bond-slaves of a foreign priest? 

They did not realize when they made their decision 
that in later years the grand movements of religious lib- 
erty were to find their centre and their impulse among 
these hills and valleys ; that when kings unsheathed 
the sword, and drove it from the fertile plains of Europe, 
it would retreat within this mountain-guarded land, and 
from these mighty bulwarks speak to Christendom. 

The day is coming when the light will wane in Ger- 
many ; when the mighty voice which we heard marshal- 
ling the Protestant host there, shall be silenced, for Lu- 
ther will go down to the grave. The day will come when 
amidst the heavy clouds which darken the morning of 
Protestantism in France, amidst the fetters with which 
Spain has returned to her prison-house, there will stand 
up in Switzerland a chief, who, pitching his pavilion 
amidst the eternal mountains, will set in order the battle, 
and direct the movements of the hosts of God until vic- 
tory crowns their efforts. 



382 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

Let us go back for a moment to stand beside a hero's 
cradle. 

Born into the lap of such a future was Ulric Zwingle. 
The son of a shepherd, he early learned the track of the 
herds amidst the mountains in summer time, and the wild, 
heroic traditions of the nation, by the winter hearth-stone. 

Round the hearth in the long winter evenings the 
elders of the village assembled, each with his tale of 
chivalry and heroic daring. As the old spake, the eyes 
of the young flashed, and the blood ran in swifter cur- 
rents through their veins. They told of the wise men of 
old, — of the heroes whose prowess turned back the hosts 
of Charles the Bold, or the steel-clad warriors of Austria. 
In fancy he saw again the mustering yeomen of the city 
— the forms of heroes rising in the misty twilight of the 
past. Yonder snows which kindled so grandly on the 
mountain's brow to greet the sun at his coming, owned 
no foreign lord. The brooks of the valley were as free 
as the thunder amidst the hills, and the people as free as 
they. 

It was a psalm of the fathers. It was because they 
were heroes, and in such a spirit noble sire was succeed- 
ed by noble son. 

Young Ulric was sent to Basle — which then boasted a 
University and printing-press — where in the mimic de- 
bates of youth he gave promise of a great future ; from 
Basle to Bern, thence to Vienna, and later a second time 
to Basle. 

Frank, open, joyous, he drew around him a large cir- 
cle of friends ; young men, who shared his two master 
passions — love of truth and love of music. In the pur- 
suit of the former, Zwingle had sat at the feet of the 
most eminent philosophy of the day, and had mastered 
the subtleties of civil and ecclesiastical law. 



Ordination of Zugle. 385 

The pastor at a place called Glarus died, and was 
succeeded by the Pope's groom, who, it was thought, 
was good enough for that little Alpine town. The heroic 
people soon returned the man to his duties in the Pontifi- 
cal stables, and asked Ulric Zwingle to become their 
pastor. 

He was ordained at Constance in 1506, being 
about twenty-two years of age at the time. A most 
ardent student of the ancient classics, he had imbibed 
from Cicero and Demosthenes much of their spirit of 
oratory and fervor of eloquence. There soon came a 
pause in his classical study. Pope Julius II. and Louis 
XII. of France were at war, and the men of Grlarus, 
with their Cardinal Bishop, obeyed the summons of their 
warlike Pontiff, and marched to encounter the French 
on the plains of Italy. Ulric was obliged to accompany 
them. His eyes were opened, and when he resumed his 
studies, it was to compare the ambition, pride and luxury 
of the Church of Rome with the plain statutes of Holy 
Writ. 

When he came to the Bible it was to him a revelation, 
and he accepte d as God's voice the sole and infallible 
authority of Holy Scripture. This was his first theo- 
logical principle, and the second was like unto it : The 
Spirit which inspired it was its sole interpreter. 

We have therefore in Luther, whose tenet was justifi- 
cation by faith, and in Zwiugle, whose sole authority 
was the Bible, two distinct lines of thought. 

The Reformation was one, but the quality of thought 
was rendered necessary by the state of the world. Hence 
the twofold aspect of the outward type or form of ex- 
pression. 



386 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Luther began his war against a self-righteous princi- 
ple. Zwingle began his on the field of scholastic divinity. 
The first, it is said, overthrew human merit ; the second 
dethroned reason. But history convinces us that by one 
the German character became greater and nobler, and 
by the other the intellectual vigor of the world has been 
elevated. 

From Glarus Zwingle was called to be preacher at 
Einsiedeln, in 1516, and two years later to the College 
of Canons at Zurich ; a college founded by Charlemagne, 
and named after its founder. There was a difference ot 
opinion among the Canons at the time of Zwingle's elec- 
tion. Otherwise the preacher of Glarus would never 
have dwelt by the lakeside. 

The town was chief in the Swiss confederation, and 
therefore doubly important as a throne of power and 
centre of influence. 

The intrepid preacher entered his pulpit the first 
cime on January 1st, 1519, which, by a singular coinci- 
dence, was on his thirty-fifth birthday. Crowds gath- 
ered not so much to hear his reputed eloquence, but be- 
cause of his then dubious renown of preaching a new 
gospel. The ringing voice, piercing eyes, clear, sharp- 
s-cut features, the mobile face, changing from winning 
tenderness to the strong severity of a prophet of old, 
found reflected in the sea of upturned faces every emo- 
tion which played upon, and surged through the speak- 
er's soul. The learned were charmed ; the ignorant were 
instructed. He reproved the pride and luxury which 
corrupted the simplicity of ancient manners, and de- 
stroyed the reign of ancient virtue. He deplored the 
loss of piety at the hearth, which accounted for dearth 
of valor in the field. He denounced in scathing terms 
the hypocritical ambition which in its own aggrandize- 



The Plague. 387 

ment rent the country in pieces, robbed the land of its 
sons, and dug the grave of both morality and independ- 
ence together. 

But Rome had not been idle. There was a new move- 
ment upon the seven hills, preparing to counteract the 
influence of these bold men who in every nation, with- 
out preconceived agreement, were starting up to unfold 
the gospel which pardons without money, which redeems 
without sacrifice. 

In 1517 Eome catalogued men's sins, affixed a price 
to each, stamped her paper indulgences, sent forth her 
hawkers, and built new treasuries to hold the streams of 
gold about to flow into her coffers. The sale of these 
indulgences was in Germany given to the Dominicans, 
in Switzerland to the Franciscans. One Samson, guar- 
dian of the Convent at Milan, was the immediate tax- 
gatherer to His Holiness, and so faithfully did he serve 
that in eighteen years he had formerly sent from Ger- 
many to Rome no less than eight hundred thousand dol- 
lars. Whenever he now appeared on the Swiss border 
Zwingle strove to confront him, and with such success 
that he led a most restless and unprofitable life. 

But in 1519 a terrible plague s*vept over the hills and 
valleys with the besom of destruction, and when Zwin- 
gle could again assemble a congregation the whole coun- 
try had been purified and solemnized. His preaching 
now took a deeper movement. Less didactic and argu- 
mentative, it was crimsoned and transfused with love. 
The love of Christ constraining men, and answering love 
— quickening, elevating, and purifying all the powers ; 
turning the will to obedience, touching the conscience 
with peace, filling the heart with joy, and the life with 
holy deeds. Such was the gospel which pealed in sub- 
lime eloquence through the old Zurich Cathedral. 



j88 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

But such thoughts knew no boundaries. They sped 
on to other cities, and other hearts were transformed by 
them. 

The seeds were sown into the air, and the winds bore 
them to nearly every hill and valley in the land. The 
light was radiant upon the mountain-tops of Eastern 
Switzerland, and crept lovingly down between the hills. 
Appenzell opened its mountain fastnesses to the new 
faith, which sped on to the foot of the Splengen. Un- 
happily the Faut Cantons did not aceept the doc- 
trines, although of all Switzerland the most independent 
and liberty-loving people. 

But Zurich was the centre of the movement. No 
change was made at once in forms of worship. The 
altar with its furniture still stood ; mass was still said, 
and images still occupied their niches. Zwingle was 
content to sow seed. He attacked, one after another, the 
dogmas of Rome, and each in turn fell before his argu- 
ment or sarcasm. 

A Council was called in 1522, before which Zwingle 
was charged with preaching seditious doctrines. This 
Council accomplished nothing, and was followed in 1523 
by a conference in which a free discussion of controvert- 
ed points, it was hoped, would be the means of settling 
many open questions. The conference ended by an 
edict which enjoined every priest to lay aside the tradi- 
tions of men, and teach only what they were able to 
prove from the Word of God. 

A victory was gained, but too easily. The Reformer 
preferred discussion, — the assertion of truth by sharp 
debate rather than sullen acquiescence. But he did not 
pause. He reformed the Cathedral Chapter, reduced the 
number of Canons, abolished fees for baptism, extreme 
unction, burial, gravestones, and for tolling the bell. 



Monastic Orders. 389 

The doors of the convents were opened, and all nuns 
weary of their vows were permitted to return to the 
world. The Council of Zurich aided him in these move- 
ments. The monastic orders were disbanded. The 
aged and infirm were provided for ; the talented were in- 
structed ; the stupid put to useful trades. Strangers 
were given money to take them home. The amount 
realized from the dissolution of these orders was devoted 
to the sick, the poor, and the advancement of educa- 
tion. Thus, step by step, the movement progressed, 
and in the main the path was a peaceful one. 

The images in the church until now had retained 
their places. Zwingle was no enemy to them or to 
pictures, yet the attitude of the unlearned towards them 
made them dangerous to the new faith. It was there- 
fore decreed that "all images must be removed which 
serve the purposes of superstitious veneration, because 
such veneration is idolatry." 

Zwingle now propounded for the first time the doc- 
trine that the Church is created by the Word of G-od ; 
that her only Head is Christ ; that the fountain of her 
laws is the Bible ; and that she consists of all through- 
out the world who profess the gospel. This was a revo- 
lution. "It struck a blow at the root of Papal suprema- 
cy ; it laid in the dust the towering fabric of Roman 
hierarchy." Thus he withdrew his flock from the juris- 
diction of Rome, and prepared the way for the abolition 
of the mass, which soon followed. 

Thus Protestantism became established in Switzer- 
land, for on Thursday of Easter week, 1525, the sacra- 
ment of the Lord's Supper was for the first time dis- 
pensed according to Protestant form. It was accom- 
panied with blessed results. A new love sprang up in 
the hearts of men. It spread upward toward God ; it 



3Q0 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

spread outward to men. Protestantism was a breath of 
healing to many sicknesses, a stream of cleansing in all 
countries to which it came. 

But the times ot trouble were at hand, and at a Diet 
held at Lucerne in 1526, it was decided to hold another 
disputation at Baden on the 16th of May. 

Dr. Eck, who had figured not without glory on the 
early fields of the Reformation, still survived, and the 
choice of the Romish Cantons fell on him as the defender 
of their faith. But he entered this discussion not to 
meet Zwingle. The Council at Zurich, hearing that 
Rome proposed to use other weapons than arguments, 
refused to let their pastor attend. He, however, directed 
the engagement from a distance by means of students, 
who each night brought hi in reports, and received his 
instructions. The disputation ended in what Dr. Eck 
declared to be a victory for the Romish side, while the 
Protestants prepared to gather in the fruits. The dispu- 
tations had quickened the movement, and men's hearts 
had never been so tender or their minds so tractable. 

The city of Berne was awakened, and called for a dis- 
cussion of the great questions within its walls. Here 
Zwingle would be safe. He entered the city on the 4th 
of January, 1528, and opened the discussion two days 
later. Twenty days were consumed, and with what re- 
sults? An incident will illustrate where the victory 
lay. 

Zwingle entered the Cathedral at the close of the dis- 
cussion concerning mass, to maintain before the people 
the proofs he had urged in debate. A priest stood at a 
side altar arrayed in sacerdotal vestments, and ready to 
begin when the deep voice of Zwingle reached his ear. 
He paused to listen. "He ascended up into heaven," 
were the slow and solemn words, "and sitteth at the 



The Forest Cantons. jgj 

right hand of God the Father Almighty" — pausing 
again — "from thence he shall come to judge the quick 
and the dead." "These three articles," said Zwingle, 
"cannot stand with the mass." Conviction of their 
truth flashed into both mind and heart of the priest, who 
stripped off his robes, and refused to say mass there- 
after. 

The truth of the gospel at Bern was felt on all sides. 
Basle soon followed its action, and Protestantism was 
triumphatly proclaimed as the faith of this important 
city. 

We have said that the Forest Cantons declined to em- 
brace Protestantism. The hardy race which inhabited 
these mountains looked in terror upon it. It might 
establish itself in Zurich ; the haught} r lords of Berne may 
welcome it ; Basle may turn from Plato to sit at the feet 
of the Apostles ; along the chain of the Jura, by the 
shores of Lake Leman, its light may travel ; but when 
the mountains of the Oberland were touched with the 
dawn of the reforming radiance, their horror and their 
wrath knew no bounds. They turned their eyes to Aus- 
tria. They forgot the grievous yoke of the House of 
Hapsburg, and the blood which it had cost their fathers 
to break it. Religious antipathy overcame national 
hatred. Even Austria was astonished, but finally ac- 
cepted the trust. 

Backed by this powerful ally, the Forest Cantons began 
to fine, imprison, and burn the professors of the reformed 
faith. 

Zwingle had long foreseen this, and felt it but right 
that they defend themselves with such means as they 
were assaulted by, and in 1529 there was formed among 
the Protestant Cantons the Christian Co-burghery, or 
confederation. 



JQ4 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

A war seemed to be inevitable, but by great patience 
and long-suffering it was arrested. Peace seemed to be 
war, however, with this difference — it was the blood of 
only one side that was spilt. Martyrdoms multiplied, 
and the fires which sent many a soul heavenward lighted 
up the mountains, and cast lurid shadows into the val- 
leys. War was declared, with the chances of success on 
the side of the Reformers, but a peace was patched up 
which only resulted in greater distresses. 

Zwingle was a hard worker. Calvin was tormented 
with ten maladies which preyed upon his body. Through 
the head of Luther "the devil stilted," to use his own 
words, but both head and body of Zwingle were sound 
and strong. Despairing of carrying the sword of the 
spirit to the refractory Cantons, he accepted the 
consequences, when anew the storm broke forth ; this 
time with the Forest Cantons pouring down their armed 
floods into the valleys, bent on the annihilation of a pure 
faith. 

Courage and patriotism were lacking to meet the ire of 
the mountaineers. Ruin was coming on apace. 

The preparations of the Forest Cantons for war were 
completed, and eight thousand men began the march to- 
ward the frontier. To oppose them but six hundred 
men could be rallied. It was confidently hoped a larger 
army would follow them. Zwingle went with them as 
war chaplain. 

A battle began between the two armies. The men 
of Zurich fought like lions, but against fearful odds. 
The tide turned against them. Zwingle bent over a 
wounded man, a stone struck him upon the head, and 
before consciousness returned he received a spear thrust 
from which he must soon have died. A soldier asked 
him if he wished a priest to confess him. Zwingle said 



Zwingle' s Death. 



395 



No. Wishing to know who this heretic was, they raised 
his head, when one of the number exclaimed, "It is the 
arch-heretic, Zwingle," and raising his sword, he struck 
him on the throat. Yielding to this last wound, the 
great man died. 




Zwingle had fallen, but even after him a mightier 
would arise. 

Zurich made her peace with the Forest Cantons. The 
Reformed faith was suppressed ; the mass was restored, 
altars were set up, the monks crept back to their empty 
cells, and peace reigned. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

LUTHER IN THE WARTBURG. 

We have traced the steps of a human soul in its efforts 
toward freedom, from a monkish cell to the foot of the 
throne of Charles V., from the church at Wittenberg to 
the gorgeous hall at Worms ; thence to the silence of 
the Wartburg. But why this pause ? We had listened 
to hear the terrible blows of the champions echoing and 
re-echoing over the field of deadly strife ; we had looked 
to see the flashing sword descend, and thousands slain 
in defending a cause held loyally as unto God. Why? 
Had the issue been joined, it would have resulted in the 
triumph of the old powers, for the new had not yet their 
full armory of weapons. They had a sword, but no 
Bible. When armed with the "sword of the Spirit, 
which is the word of God," they may enter the conflict. 
A voice had spoken to which "kings, princes, dukes, 
prelates, cities and universities had listened, and from 
it might}' echoes had come back from far distant lands. v 
Man may be silent for a little — for a little space at least, 
and God will speak to men by his own word. 

But for a moment let us look around us. In Spain 
the taciturn, ambitious, plodding Charles V. wears a 
diadem of realms won from both the Eastern and West- 
ern worlds. The warlike knight, the polished and chiv- 
alrous Francis I. governs France. The cold-hearted, 
cold-blooded, strong-minded, self-willed Henry VIII. 
sways the sceptre of England, dealing alternate blows 
to Rome or the Reformation, as mood or policy dictated. 



War Clouds. ^99 

Leo X., elegant, self-indulgent, and sceptical, is mas- 
ter of Rome, while the sceptre of Solyman the Magnifi- 
cent governs the myriads of Asia. Like clouds sur- 
charged with lightning, his hordes often hung upon the 
borders of Christendom. When, obedient to the Roman 
See, the Sovereigns united to crush Protestantism by a 
blow so decisive that it would never rise again, the fierce 
Turk, obedient to one he knew not, presented himself on 
the eastern border, and drew the bolt which must other- 
wise have fallen upon the dissenting few. Thus did 
Christ cover his flock with the Moslem's shield. Thus 
the passions which beat upon each other like great tem- 
pests around it, became bulwarks of protection. Kings 
dashed against each other's bucklers ; intrigue was met 
by intrigue ; assault by assault ; tempest broke against 
tempest, and the principle which these thunder-charged 
clouds were gathered to destroy, found in them an asy- 
lum of peace and of propagation. 

Such was the condition of nations at the moment when 
Luther entered the Wartburg. Protestantism was the 
centre around which all the great interests revolved. 
But now the skies are overcast. A Moslem cloud 
sweeps upward from the East. Solyman has taken 
many towns and castles, captured the bulwarks of Hun- 
gary, and is thundering at the gates of Vienna. There 
were swords unsheathed above Luther's head, when lo, 
a hundred thousand Turkish scimitars sway white and 
gleaming above the heads of his oppressors. Kings 
thirsted for his blood, and many pages of their his- 
tory were glued together with the crimson stains of their 
own. 

In the South a war-cloud was gathering, and Charles 
V. hastened to Spain to quell seditions which had broken 
out in the Emperor's absence. These intestine strifes 



400 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

being suppressed, he entered the field against Francis I. 
The campaign began on the slopes of the Pyrenees, 
but swept over the mountains into Italy, where the Pope 
joining arms with Spain, the French lost the fair prov- 
inces of Parma, Piacenza, Milan and Lombardy. The 
great joy with which the Pope hailed these victories, the 
fetes and public rejoicings which followed them, so ex- 
cited his over-strained system, that he suddenly fell ill 
and died without the sacrament. He had reigned mag- 
nificently. He died burdened with debts and shadowed 
by disgrace. His subjects pursued his corpse to its 
grave, we are told, with insult and reproach. "Thou 
hast crept in like a fox ; like a lion thou hast ruled us, 
and like a dog hast thou died." In the choice of Adrian 
VI., the Cardinal College was powerfully influenced by 
the Emperor Charles, who exulted in seeing his old tutor 
raised to the Papal throne. A man of modest, humble 
piety, he was hardly a fit successor to the magnificent 
Leo. His descent upon the gaities of his court was like 
the eclipse of a noonday sun. Prayers and beads took 
the place of songs and masquerades. "He will be our 
ruin," said the Romans of their new Pope, 

His earliest utterances sound strangely in the light of 
the infallibility decree of July 18, 1870, where he says, 
"It is certain that the Pope may err in matters of faith 
in defending heresy by his opinion or decretals." 

During this time Luther was quietly waiting in the 
seclusion of the Wartburg. He scattered from his 
mountain-top, far and wide, letters, commentaries, trea- 
tises, counsels and rebukes, writing them. from ''''the region 
oj the air" "the mountain ," "the Isle of Patmos." Here 
he accomplished a complete translation of the New Tes- 
tament into German, and in 1522 it was printed 
and could be purchased for a florin and a half. Later 



Ltithcr i?i the Wartburg. 401 

he undertook the translation of the Old Testament from 
the Hebrew, which was afterwards accomplished in con- 
nection with Melancthon. 

As the intense labors and confinement of Luther wore 
upon him, his bodily health gave way, and even the 
mental equilibrium was disturbed to such an extent that 
his feverish and excited mind was oppressed by fears 
and gloomy terrors, shaped in Satanic forms, against 
one of which he hurled his inkstand with such fearful 
force as to put the fiend to rout, and break a large piece 
of plastering from the wall. 

Still the Reformation was advancing. Z willing, a 
humble friar, began to preach against the mass, and 
gained converts among monks and priests, as well as 
people. 

Wittenberg was disturbed. Frederick appointed a 
delegation to visit the Augustine convent, and restore 
it. Justus Jonas, Philip Melancthon and Nicholas 
Amsdorf were sent to accomplish this work, which re- 
sulted in their conversion, and they joined the obscure 
monk in demanding the abolition of the mass. With 
the fall oi the mass fell much that leaned upon it. Cleri 
cal celibacy was exchanged for wedlock. Purgatory 
was removed, and much of the bitterness taken out ol 
death. 

Luther had been about ten months in the Wartburg 
when he learned of the movements of the Zwickau 
Prophets, or Anabaptists, who were engaged in wha 
seemed to him a work most destructive to the Eeforma 
tion. They denounced infant baptism as the invention 
of the Devil. They claimed divine inspiration and 
special revelations through the mediation of angels. 
Luther felt impelled to leave his work and go to Witten- 
berg, to combat upon the spot this new-sprung fanati- 



402 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

cism. And though he might enter a world thirsty for 
his blood, yet he must go. The town was electrified by 
the news of his arrival. He had passed his crisis at 
Worms. The Reformation was passing its at Witten- 
berg. The latter was the greater danger of the two. 

Intense excitement, but a deep stillness reigned in the 
Cathedral on Sunday morning when he ascended its pul- 
pit. Never had he appeared grander or more truty 
great. He who had been like a rock to the Emperor, 
was as tender as a mother to his flock. Day after day, 
all the week through, he continued his wonderful dis- 
courses, passing in review the institutions and ordinances 
of the Church, and every day the immense crowds which 
flocked to hear him, went away filled with a conviction 
of the truths he uttered. The triumph was complete. 
The rout of the false prophets was signified by their 
speedy retreat from the province, and quiet succeeded 
the storm. 

The storm was followed by a calm, and things in 
Wittenberg resumed their wonted course. Luther had 
the satisfaction of believing that he had raised a barrier 
against such enthusiasm as the false prophets had kin- 
dled, and had established a light which would continue 
to wax broader^ and ever widen until it had dispelled 
the darkness of Christendom. 

In this work he was aided by Melancthon, who set 
about gathering from the pamphlets of various writings 
a formulated system of the doctrines of the Reformation. 
His genius was most admirably fitted for the work, be- 
ing more of a theologian than Luther, while the grace of 
his style lent a charm to his theology which found him 
readers among the cultivated and literary classes. The 
Reformation theology was not a chaos of dogmas, but a 
majestic unity. 



A Growing Power. 40J 

A multitude of priests soon became obedient to the 
faith and preached it to their flocks, while whole cities 
embraced the gospel. The German Bible and writings 
of Luther were read by all classes of people at every 
hearthstone. The skies were filling with light ; the ra- 
diance was refreshing to the souls of men emerging from 
ignorance and torpor ; the German nation was quickened 
with a new life and endowed with a marvellous power. 

Artisans, soldiers, women even, with the Bible in their 
hands, set out teaching the new truth. While a phalanx 
of priests and doctors strove to do battle for Rome, but 
who held in their hands only the old. ineffectual weapons 
of the papacy. 

Like a battering ram of tremendous force, the print- 
ing press thundered night and day against the walls of 
the old Roman fortress. An army of colportors was 
extemporized who seconded the efforts of the publishers 
in the spread of the writings of Luther, which, clear and 
terse, glowing with the fire of enthusiasm, and rich with 
the gold of truth, brought with them an invigoration of 
the intellect as well as a renewal of the heart. 

In the letter, which on the 25th of November, 1522, 
Adrien addressed to the states of the empire assembled 
at Nuremberg, he urged them "to cut down this pesti- 
lential plant that was spreading its boughs so widely ; 
to remove this gangrene member from the body," re- 
minding them that " the omnipotent God had caused 
the earth to open and swallow up alive Dathan and 
Abriam ; that Peter, the prince of apostles, had struck 
Ananias and Sapphira dead for lying, and that the 
Church had put to death John Huss and Jerome of 
Prague, who now seemed risen in Martin Luther." But 
a document dictated in the hot air of Italy was not suit- 
ed to the cooler latitudes of Bavaria, and the papal nun- 



4.06 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

cio found the populace along the route which he trav- 
ersed bearing this precious document, quite indifferent 
either to his benediction or his curse. 

The Pope was so sincere in his efforts that he made a 
very ample confession of the need of a reform, exclaim- 
ing that the immorality extended from the Pope to the 
prelates, — " We are all gone astray, there are none 
that hath done rightly, no, not one." 

At the hearing of these words the champions of the 
papacy hung their heads ; the opponents held theirs up. 
u We need hesitate no longer," said they, "it is not 
Luther, but the Pope himself who denounces the cor- 
ruption of the Church ; reform is the order of the day, 
therefore we propose to reform according to the dictates 
of our own conscience." The action of the Diet was 
certainly not such as to encourage the papal party, 
The Pope's nuncio hastily quitted the city, leaving some 
other person to bear the ungracious messages of the 
Diet to Pome. 

It resulted, however, in the declaration that the gos- 
pel should continue to be preached. The Reformation 
gathered new glory, which increased rapidly and embit- 
tered the spirit of the papal party. 

It is unnecessary to note the changes which took 
place on the death of Adrian, or those which immedi- 
ately followed the accession of Clement the Seventh to 
the papal chair. It was the conviction of the leaders of 
the part}' that they had made a great mistake by lifting 
Adrian too soon to supreme office, and it was determined 
that in the choice of his successor no such peril to the 
church should be risked. But great winds were blowing ; 
the seas were rising ; the ocean heaved before the tem- 
pest, and it required skill in the pilot to carry the ship 
safely through the storm. 



Diet of Nuremberg. 4.07 

Early in the spring of 1524 an imperial Diet sat within 
the walls of Nuremburg. This Diet passed a decree that 
the Edict of Worms should be vigorously enforced as far 
as possible, which resulted in the practical repeal of the 
Edict, as the majority of the states declared that to en- 
force it was impossible. Dexterously thej T muzzled the 
enemy's gun, and for a time stayed the storm of papal 
wrath. This Diet ended like all that had preceded it, 
in disappointment. 

The determination of the Nurembergers to enter heart- 
ily into the reform movement was not to be changed by 
either the muttered disapproval of the Pope, nor the out- 
spoken threatening^ of the Emperor's envoy. Tapers 
were extinguished in the cathedrals ; images stood neg- 
lected in their niches ; no sacred wafer, no cloud of in- 
cense was to be seen ; the altar was changed into a table, 
and bread and wine were placed upon it ; praj-er was 
offered, a psalm sung, and the sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper was celebrated in the simplicity of the early 
church. 

From the hour the Diet broke up, both sides began to 
prepare for the meeting at Spiers, which was to occur in 
November. 

The success of the princes, who on their return to their 
states collected the suffrages of their people on the ques- 
tion of church reform, far exceeded their expectations. 
The universal answer seemed to be "We will serve Eome 
no longer." The consternation of the Roman body was 
great in proportion to the rejoicings of the reform party, 
and it became necessary for the Pope to adopt new tac- 
tics, which were couched in the brief but expressive 
words "Divide and conquer." 

The believers of the Papal party succeeded in forming 
an organization among the priests of Germany. They 



408 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

were afterwards joined by the archbishops of Southern 
Germany, who in convention determined to forbid the 
printing of Luther's books ; to tolerate no change in the 
masses or public worship, and to put into execution the 
Edict of Worms against Luther ; thus, they proposed to 
wage a war of extermination against the new faith. 

The Pope now began to work upon the feelings of 
Charles the Fifth, telling him that the empire was in 
greater danger than the triple crown of Rome. Charles 
needed not the spur, but when informed by the Pope that 
a Diet was to be held, irrespective of his authority, Charles 
was stung to the quick. He declared that a council 
should be convoked, but that he, in connection with the 
Pope, was to be the judge when and where it should be 
held. 

The issue of the affair was that the unity of Germany 
was broken ; henceforth, there was a Protestant and a 
Catholic Diet, — a Protestant Germany and a Catholic 
Germany. This was a most deplorable event which must 
be expiated by wars, by revolutions, and by the po- 
litical and religious strife of three centuries. 

With the rise of these two hostile camps the world's 
destinies were fatally changed. The work of the Refor- 
mation must go on, but Protestantism must advance by 
the way of the stake, by martyrdom, and by blood. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE PEASANT'S WAR. 

The clouds which now darkened the sky of the Refor- 
mation arose from a quarter where hitherto all had been 
sunshine and hope. It seemed that the darkness of a 
horrible night was falling. These troubles had not been 
foreseen by Luther, — they arose not from the schemes 
of policy, or ambition of the Emperor ; not from the or- 
ders of the mitre or cowl, but from the people. It was 
from eyes that the bandage of spiritual darkness had 
been torn ; it was from arms that the fetters of supersti- 
tion and of temporal bondage had been broken, yet from 
the people came the most terrible blow that the Reform- 
ation had up to this point sustained. 

The oppression of the German peasantry had been a 
matter of ages long, — stripped of the rude privileges 
which their fathers enjoyed, they could not roam their 
forests, kill what game they pleased, nor build their huts 
upon whatever spot taste or convenience dictated. They 
were compelled to submit to galling restrictions ; tied to 
their native acres, they were compelled to spend their 
lives in tilling their fields, and spilling their blood to 
maintain the quarrels of their masters. To temporal op- 
pression was added spiritual bondage. The priests wrung 
from them by spiritual threats the small portion of earthly 
goods which the baron had left them. The power of 
contrast came to embitter their lot, and while one class 
was sinking into poverty and degradation, another class 
was rising into affluence and power. 



410 Young Peoples History of Protestantism. 

Art and letters were awakening the intellect. The 
Reformation came and gave a new impetus, widened 
the range of human vision, taught the essential equality 
of man, and weakened the keystone in the arch of Eu- 
rope, namely, the papacy. 

It seemed the moment most auspicious to the ignorant 
peasants to redress their wrongs. Suffering had ex- 
hausted their patience ; the fetters which had been loosed 
by the master they resolved to break by their own power. 
A blind rage and a destructive fury proportioned to the 
ignorance in which they had been kept and the degrada- 
tion into which they had fallen, characterized the onset. 

Mutterings of the gathering storm had been heard even 
before the Reformation had come upon the stage, but it 
came too late with its healing virtues to change the hearts 
or temper the passions of men whose intense hatred of 
the upper classes had become so strong as to threaten 
the devastation of the world. 

In January, 1525, the peasants put their demands into 
twelve articles. Considering the times of the men who 
wrote them, the articles seemed reasonable and moderate. 
They asked for the restitution of the free domains which 
had belonged to their ancestors, rights of hunting and 
fishing which they had themselves enjoyed, a mitigation 
of taxes which burdened them heavily, and they headed 
their claim of rights with a "free choice of their minis- 
ters ;" and to enforce each article they supported it with a 
text of Scripture. 

An enlightened policy would have conceded these 
demands, in the main, but those to whom the appeal 
was made laid their hands upon the sword hilt in 
reply. 

Between the Scylla of established despotism and the 
Charybdis of popular lawlessness, the ship of the Re- 



The Insurrection. 413 

formation seemed to be passing. Rare skill was re- 
quired to direct its course. 

With which side should Luther ally himself? It be- 
came him, however, to stand apart, and thus the more 
effectively, at the right moment, to tell a little of the 
truth to both parties. 

The first insurrectionary cloud rolled up in Suabia, 
near the sources of the Danube. The spirit ran like 
wild fire along its shores, kindling the peasantry into re- 
volts, filling the towns with tumults, seditions, and ter- 
ror. The excitement of the insurgents soon grew into 
a fury. By the end of the year Thuringia, Franconia, 
and a part of Saxony were in a blaze. 

Their march became destructive and desolating ; fields 
were trampled down ; barns and storehouses were rifled ; 
the castles of the nobility were demolished ; palaces were 
torn to the ground. The blood of unhappy victims began 
to dye their pathway. Surprising the garrisons of forti- 
fied towns, they condemned them to death and executed 
them on the spot. It seemed as though the conflagration 
would devour Christendom, but soon the princes who 
had been taken by surprise, recovered from their stupor, 
gathered their forces and joined with characteristic spirit 
to oppose the rival boors. 

The stor}' of the peasant's war is one of thrilling inter- 
est,— of terror mingled with blood. Luther raised his 
voice to pronounce an unqualified condemnation of a 
movement, which from a demand for just rights had 
become a war of pillage and murder. He called on every- 
one to gird on the sword to resist it. Several battles 
were fought at once, and fortresses were besieged. The 
peasantry contended with furious bravery, knowing that 
they must conquer or endure a terrible revenge. But 
the arms of the princes triumphed. The lesson of this 



4.14 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

outbreak was worth a hundred-fold all the sufferings en- 
dured. Among these lessons was this, that Protestant- 
ism could no more be advanced by popular violence 
than it could be suppressed by aristocratic tyranny ; in- 
dependent of both, it must advance b} T its own inherent 
might along its own path. 

The Diet of Spires, which assembled on the 25th of 
June, 1526, was attended by all the electoral princes ex- 
cept the princes of Brandenburg. The reformed princes 
were in high spirits. The fulminations from Charles the 
Fifth had no terror for them. Their courage may be 
read in the gallantry of their daring as they rode at the 
head of their retainers along the highway towards 
Spires. 

Charles had thundered against them in his ban ; the 
pope had hurled his anathemas, and under these they 
had simply written their motto, Ci The Word of God." 
The action of this diet was such as to confirm the high 
hopes of the reformers and alarm the papal party, which 
became discouraged. However, a letter from the Em- 
peror was read to the deputies in which Charles made 
known his will on the religious question under discussion 
at the Diet. 

The Emperor informed the princes that he was about 
to proceed to Rome to be crowned, and that he would 
consult with the Pope concerning the call of a general, 
council. Meanwhile, he commanded that they decree 
nothing contrary to ancient customs, canons, or cere- 
monies of the church, and that all things be ordered ac- 
cording to the tenor of the Edict of Worms. This was 
a severe shock, and more so, coming at a time when the 
hopes of the Protestants were high. What were the 
princes to do ? Dangers threatened their cause on every 
hand. The Edict of Worms hung like a sword above 



A Ray of Hope. 417 

Protestantism for five years, every moment threatening 
to crush it. Its author was still powerful, — what should 
hinder his snapping the thread and letting the sword fall. 
Neither from England nor France could aid be expected. 

A strange rumor filled the air, ik The Pope and the Em 
peror are at strife." The news was too good to be cred- 
ited. 

The Protestants at this moment felt as did the Israel- 
ites standing on the shores of the Eed Sea, waiting breath- 
lessly to see if the waters would divide before the up- 
lifted rod of Moses. 

On the right and left the precipitate cliffs of papal 
edict and imperial ban ; in their rear the war chariots 
and horsemen of the hosts of Pharoah ; before them rolled 
the waters of a sea whose wavelet seemed tinged with 
blood. No escape seemed open ; they were "entangled 
in the land and the wilderness shut them in." 

Most historians speak of this as a great epoch. "The 
local interest of the Protestant party in the empire," says 
Ranke, "is based on the decree of Spires, 1526." 
D'Aubigne says, "This Diet forms an important epoch in 
history by which an ancient power, that of the middle 
ages, is shaken, and anew power, that of modern times, 
is advanced. Religious liberty boldly takes its stand in 
front of Roman despotism. A lay spirit prevails over 
the sacerdotal spirit." Certainly it altered the relation 
of the empire to the papacy, and dealt the first legal blow 
to the supremacy and infallibility of Rome. The decree 
was to this purpose, "that for establishing religion and 
maintaining peace and quietness, it was necessary there 
should be a lawful general or Provincial Council of Ger- 
many held within a year, and that no delay or impedi- 
ment might intervene, that embassadors should be sent to 
the Emperor to pray him that he would look upon the mis- 



418 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

erable and tumultuous state of the empire, and come into 
Germany as soon as he could and procure a Council as to 
religion and the Edict of Worms. In the meanwhile, 
until a general or national council can be had, all shall 
so behave themselves in their several provinces as that 
they shall be able to render an account of their doings, 
both to God and the Emperor." In short, every city 
was to act in religion upon its own judgment. 

A calm ot three years seems to follow this eventful 
period. Troubles of the political world brought peace to 
the church as well, which prepared the way for the erec- 
tion of the new edifice and the demolition of the old. 
Luther was quick to see the opportunity which had ar- 
rived, and felt the time had come in which to build. Old 
walls had fallen, but he knew the foundations were still 
firm. Hitherto, his work had been simply to preach the 
gospel, but this preaching had called into existence com- 
munities of believing men, scattered throughout the 
provinces of Germany, who though not yet visibly dis- 
tinct from the old people to a real unity, were gathered 
by their faith around a living centre — Christ. They 
were knit together by a bond which was simply truth. 

The first necessity was organization, and it became 
necessary that certain orders of men, by whatever name 
they be called, should be brought into existence to preach 
and to dispense the sacraments. 

He assumed that the party to construct the ministry 
lodged inalienably in the church itself. If it be the 
duty of the church to preach and dispense sacraments, 
certainly that duty implies right and function. But 
these duties may not be performed alike by the mem- 
bers. They may be exercised by some, only. How 
shall these some be chosen? Only by the church itself. 
Not by their own pleasure ; not by self appointment, but 



Diet of Spires. 4.1$ 

the congregation which has a local habitation has the 
right to call to its ministry such persons as it deems fit 
and proper to serve them. Thus did Luther constitute 
the ministry. 

The clergy of the Lutheran Church stood at the oppo- 
site pole from those of the Papal Church. The former 
were democratic in their origin, the latter were monar- 
chial ; the former sprang from the people, the latte** 
appointed by a sacerdotal monarchy ; the former ditfered 
in no essential point from the other members of the 
church, the latter was a hierarchy, forming a distinct 
order, inasmuch as they were possessed of exclusive 
colleges and dowers. 

The time for the Diet of Spires was approaching. It 
had been convoked for February, but was not able to 
assemble until the middle of March. The attendance on 
the Catholic side was more numerous than at any preced- 
ing Diet. The little town experienced a new commotion 
on the arrival of every papal magnate. 

With his imposing display of armed followers, King 
Ferdinand attended by three hundred knights, the dukes 
of Bavaria with equal retinues, the electors of Mainz 
and Treses, Bishops of Trent and Hildesheim, each 
with a troop of horsemen, with hot looks and boastful 
greetings exchanged with one another as they met, pro- 
claimed the confident hopes they cherished of being able 
to carry the matters of the Diet in their own way. It 
was their purpose to bury the Reformation. On the 13th 
of March came John of Saxony, the most powerful and 
the most modest prince of the empire. By his side rode 
Melancthon. On the following Sunday Melancthon 
held public worship in his hotel, which was attended by 
no fewer than eight thousand people, both forenoon and 
afternoon. The Diet was immediately convoked, and 



420 Young Peoples History of Protestantism. 

received the Emperor's command that the Diet should 
repeal the edict of the Diet of 1526, which was held in 
the same place. This was all. The delegates immedi- 
ately transacted this business, and in an hour returned 
home. The edict, the repeal of which was now demand- 
ed, granted the free exercise of religion to the cities of 
the empire until a general council should meet. As we 
have before noted, it was the first legal establishment 
of the Reformation. 

Religious freedom, then, this gathering was command- 
ed to abolish. Should this edict be destroyed, that of 
1521 would come into operation, in which case Luther 
must be put to death, and the reformed princes rooted 
out of all countries where they had taken root. This 
was the import of that message with which Charles 
startled the Diet at this point. It was the signal for a 
struggle. The papish members would strenously insist 
that it be repealed at once. The reformed princes on 
the other side thought this edict was the constitution 
of the empire, and that to repeal it would be a breach 
of the national faith, and that to the Lutheran princes 
would remain the right to resist such a step b} r force of 
arms. 

The majority of the Diet felt the force of these argu- 
ments. Each principality claimed the right of regulat- 
ing its own worship. j They felt that to repeal the edict 
would be to inaugurate revolution and war. They 
chose the middle path, — they would neither abolish the 
one nor enforce the other. The object which was at stake 
was that upon which the claims of Rome, to coerce con- 
science and forbid free inquiry, were based. To submit 
to the papal demands would be to deprive themselvs 
and their subjects of the enjo3'ment of religious freedom ; 
nor could they consent to legalize religious slavery ; to 



The Diet Reassembles. 423 

proclaim that the Reformation had made its last con- 
vert, and that, wherever Rome bore sway, there her 
dominion was to be perpetuated. The crisis was mo- 
mentous. From the decisions of the order would come 
the rise or fall of the Reformation, — the liberty or 
slavery of Christendom. 

On the 18th of April the Diet had reassembled. B} T 
an adroit movement on the part of the Elector of Sax- 
ony and his friends, a resolution was passed which they 
construed into the submission of the reformed leaders 
and the papal authority, upon which King Ferdinand 
thanked the Diet for voting the proposition, and added 
that the substance of it was to be embraced in an impe- 
rial edict and published throughout the empire. Not 
anticipating so abrupt a termination, the Protestant 
members retired to an adjoining chamber to frame their 
answer. Charles would not wait. He left the Diet, 
nor did he return to hear the reply of the Lutheran 
princes. There was but one word. He had spoken, 
and it was as though Rome had spoken through him as 
a mouth-piece. The* word was "submit." 

The last and final meeting of this Diet was held on 
the 19th of April. The audience was not gathered in 
the chambers of Spires. It was gathered in a larger 
circle which swept outward to the furthest points of 
Christendom. All the ages were looking down upon 
that little company, who maintained the principles of 
the Reformation and the right of protest. The princes 
of the reformed party proceeded to read a declaration, 
of which the following are some of the important pas- 
sages : "We cannot consent to its (the Edict of 1526) 
repeal, because this would be to deny our Lord Jesus 
Christ, to reject his holy word, and to give him just 
reasons to deny us before the Father. Moreover, the 



424. Young People's History of Protestantism. 

new edict declaring that ministers shall preach the gos- 
pel, explaining it according to the writings accepted by 
the whole Christian church, we think that for this regula- 
tion to have any value, we should first agree on what is 
meant by the whole church. Now seeing that there is 
great diversity of opinion in this respect, that there is no 
other doctrine but such as is conformable to the Word 
of God, we are resolved with the grace of God to main- 
tain the pure and exclusive preaching of his Holy 
"Word, such as is contained in the Biblical Books of the 
world and the New Testament, without adding anj'thing 
thereto that may be contrary to it. This Word is the 
only truth. He who builds on this foundation shall 
stand all the powers of Hell, whilst all the human vani- 
ties that are set up against it shall fall before the voice 
of God." 

This protest was one of the grandest documents in 
all history, and marks an epoch in the progress of the 
human race second only to Christianity itself. You 
will remember that at Worms Luther stood alone ; here 
at Spires he has grown into a host. The language 
which he so courageously uttered on that da} T has been 
repeated by princes, by cities, and by nations. Its echoes 
reverberate now throughout the world like thunder 
through mountain crags. They travel onward ; they are 
heard in the palaces of Barcelona, the dens of the inqui- 
sition, and in the Basilicas of Rome. 

On the following Sabbath, the 25th of April, a little 
company of delegates from the Protestant cities assem- 
bled in a small house in St. John's Lane, and drew 
up an appeal, in which they protested against the 
decree of the Diet, for themselves, their subjects, and 
all who receive, or shall receive, the gospel. They 
appealed to the Emperor and to a free and general coun- 
cil of Christendom. 



Charles the Fifth. 421 

It is perhaps unnecessary for us to discuss further the 
great movements of Protestantism in Germany, or the 
results of the conference at Marburg, and the confusion 
which emanated therefrom. We have traced the steps 
by which the Protestant movement has carried on its 
glorious work of varied achievements, and the politi- 
cal strength which it has attained. It will be, per- 
haps, unnecessary that we bring to a close the life 
of the great man who has led it. The movement was 
not without harassing toil, war-clouds, fierce light- 
nings and thunder : but the darkness seemed to be 
breaking with every terrific peal ; the air became clear 
with every fierce shaft of lightning ; held by the papal 
force, there seemed a serener peace in the atmosphere. 

Charles the Fifth had risen to his highest pinnacle of 
power. In the East the storm cloud was rising ; in the 
West the sun seemed already to be darkened. Where 
the first bolt would fall, it was difficult to surmise ; where 
the fiercest storm would gather, no one would be able to 
tell. It is, perhaps, wiser for us to turn our thoughts to 
France, and state briefly the rise, the progress, and the 
success of the spirit of Protestantism in that nation. 
We may, however, have occasion to refer to the Diet 
of Augsburg, and the Confession which bears its name, 
but for the present we turn our thoughts to France, and 
the wonderful story of suffering, of heroism, and of 
conquest, which the principles of Protestantism achieved 
there. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE REFORMATION IN FRANCE. 

The area of the Reformation is about to be enlarged. 
The stage is already crowded with great actors. Eng- 
land, Germany, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, from 
each of these there is to be an accession. The plot 
deepens, the parts multiply, and the issue gives promise 
even be} T ond the grandest conceptions. It is by no 
means the smallest actor that is now to step upon the 
stage on which the nations were battling, and where, if 
victorious, they shall reap a future of happiness and of 
glory ; but if vanquished there awaits them only deca- 
dence, shame and ruin. 

At the opening of the 16th century, France held the 
foremost place among all the countries of Europe. It 
aspired to lead all nations. Geographically it was 
placed in the centre of the civilized world, and there 
was hardly a state in Christendom that it did not touch 
at some point ; Switzerland, Germany, the low countries 
joined it, and parted only by a narrow arm of the sea, 
was England. At all its gates save those which looked 
toward Italy and Spain, the Reformation seemed waiting 
for admittance. The question arises, will France open 
these gates ? Should she decide favorably by her com- 
manding position she will become the beacon light of Prot- 
estantism, making the day clearer where the light has 
dawned, and the night less dark where its shades still 
linger. 

We lift the curtain in the year 1510. The throne of 



Julius Second. 4.29 

France was occupied by Louis XII., the wisest sover- 
eign of the age. At Tours he had assembled his parlia- 
ment, which was to solve for him the question whether it 
be lawful to go to war with the Pope, who files treaties, 
and sustains his injustice by levying soldiers and fight- 
ing battles. 

The papal chair was filled by the war-like Julius II. 
Ignorance and incapacity characterized his reign in 
the spiritual field, and nearly his whole time was passed 
in the camps of soldiers and on battle-fields. With so 
war-like a priest at the centre of Christendom, the na- 
tions had little rest. He had disquieted Louis of France, 
hence the question placed before the parliament. 

The many evils which pressed upon the world, the 
solution of which it were folly for any council or Parlia- 
ment to undertake, together with the unfettering of 
man's intelligence and the banishing of the darkness of 
ignorance, gave evidence that the old age was about to 
close, and a new one about to open. The council that 
was sitting at Pisa summoned the Pope to its bar, and 
when he failed to appear it suspended him from his of- 
fice, and forbade the people to obey him. 

He then convoked another Council and made void that 
of Pisa, fulminating the excommunication against Louis 
of France, suspending divine worship throughout the 
country, and delivering the kingdom to whomsoever 
should care to sieze upon it. 

Thus Council fought against Council. In 1513 Julius 
II. died, and the Vatican no longer rang with the clang 
of arms. Instead of soldiers, troops of musicians and 
crowds of masqueraders and buffoons filled the palace 
of the Pope. The talk was no longer of battles, bat 
of dancers. Soon Louis of France followed his oppo- 
nent to the grave, on the first of January, 1515, and was 



4J0 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

succeeded by his nephew, Francis I., who immediately 
ascended the throne. 

The new Pope and the new King were very similar in 
their tastes. The renaissance had touched both deeply, 
communicating to them a refinement of outward manner, 
and that sesthetical rather than cultivated taste which 
it imparted to all who came under its influence. 

Perhaps it were well before going on with our story to 
turn back to 1510 when the good King Louis XII. was 
upon the throne. For it was so far away as this, that 
the fountain head of the river which was to stream forth 
and to refresh France with its spiritual waters, was dis- 
covered. 

Should you enter a church during this year 1510 you 
would not fail to mark an old man small of stature, sim- 
ple in manners, going his rounds of churches, prostrat- 
ing himself before the images and devoutly repeating his 
hours. 

On a small scale this strange old man was destined 
to become in France what Wycliffe had been in England 
and to the world. His name was Jacques Lefevre. 
Born in the middle of the previous century he was now 
towards seventy years, still hale and vigorous. All his 
days he had been a devout Papist, and the eclipse of 
superstition had not yet passed from off his soul. He 
had had a presentiment for years that a new day was 
rising in the world, and he believed that he should not 
depart till his eyes had seen the light. In some re 
spects he was a remarkable man ; a capacious intellect, 
an inquisitive mind which had entered nearly every field 
of study in each of which he had made great proficiency. 

The ancient languages — History, Mathematics, Phil- 
osophy, Theology, he had studied them all. He had 
visited Asia and Africa, striving to quench his thirst for 



Lefevre* 431 

knowledge, and in the Theological Hall of the Sorbonne 
he had drawn around him crowds of admiring disci- 
ples. Gentle with all, and so meek, so amiable, so full 
of loving kindness that all who knew him loved him. 
There were those who avoided him. He made himself 
familiar with so many subjects that his enemies believed 
that in some of them there must be a taint of heresy, so 
they set to watching him. No one was more punctual 
or more devoted in his religious exercises. Never ab- 
sent from Mass ; his place never empty at a procession ; 
no one remained so long on his knees before the saints, 
and he had even distinguished himself among all the 
Professors of the College in decking the statues of Mary 
with flowers. 

Lefevre, thinking to crown the saints with a fairer and 
more lasting garland than the perishable flowers which 
he had placed upon their images, formed the idea of col- 
lecting and re-writing their lives. He had already made 
some progress in these books when the thought struck 
him that possibly the Bible might contain some material 
or hints that would be usefnl to him in his work. 

The Bible had been up to this time a sealed book, as 
it was not considered particularly necessary to the priest 
or the theologian. He accordingly turned to it and un- 
wittingly opened to himself the parables of the New World. 
Saints of another sort than those which had till then 
absorbed his attention, appeared upon the pages, men 
who had received a higher canonization than that of Rome, 
and whose images the pen of inspiration had drawn. 

He found that the virtues of the real Saints quite 
dimmed the legendary stories of the unreal ones, and the 
pen dropped from his hand. Having opened the Bible 
he was in no haste to close it. He found the Saints 
enshrined there quite unlike the Saints of the Roman 



432 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Calendar, and the Church of the Bible quite unlike 
the Roman Church. 

From the images of Paul and Peter he turned to the 
Apostles Paul and Peter ; from the voice of the church 
to the voice of God, and the idea of a free vocation 
stood revealed to him. It was a sudden revelation, like 
the springing up of the sun without first the morning 
twilight. He published in 1512 a commentary, of which 
a copy is now found in the royal Library of Paris. 

In that work he says, "It is God who gives us by 
faith that righteousness which by grace alone justifies 
eternal life." Of all the places in France the most dan- 
gerous for such an utterance, or the proclamation of a 
new doctrine, was the Sorbonne. And now to proclaim 
in the very citadel of Theology the doctrine of the Gos- 
pel, was enough to make the very stones cry out and 
the venerable walls to tremble above his devoted head. 

There was great commotion around his chair when 
these unwonted sounds were heard, and with very differ- 
ent feelings did the pupils of the venerable man listen to 
these new teachings and those which characterized his 
former utterance. 

They looked like men whose eyes fall upon an object 
far away. Astonishment and doubt was written upon 
their faces. Knitted brows and flashing eyes bespoke 
the anger that some felt against the man who was tearing 
down, as they thought, even the very foundation of moral- 
ity. It is important for us to mark this era, as it was in 
1512, and not until five years later was the voice of 
Luther heard in France. 

Even before the strokes of Luther's hammer are heard 
in Wittimberg ringing the death knell of the old times, 
the voice of Lefevre is proclaiming beneath the vaulted 
roof of the Sorbonne in Paris, the advent of a new age. 




FIRST PROTESTANTS IN FRANCE. 



In the Sorbonne. 435 

Among the youth who gathered around the chair of 
Lefevre is one who especially attracts our notice. There 
seems to exist a peculiar attachment between the pupil 
and his master. 

No one in all the crowd is so intent upon the words 
which fall from the master's lips, and upon none do the 
eyes of the teacher rest with so kindly a light. 

This youth is a native of France, born among the Alps 
in 1489 ; and his name is Farel. 

His parents were eminently pious, measured by the 
standards of the day. Never did the morning kindle the 
white mountain peaks into glory but the family was as- 
sembled, and the bead roll duly gone over. Never did 
the evening fall amid the mountain solitudes without the 
customary hymn to the Virgin. 

The grandeurs of nature in his eye seemed to be only 
the antipode of the darkness of superstition deepening 
year by year in his mind. 

The glory of the Alps and the glory of the church 
seemed to blend and become one in his soul. It would 
have been as difficult for him to believe that Rome with 
her Pope and priests, her rites and ceremonies, were the 
creations of superstition, as that the great mountains 
around him with their snow-covered summits and forest- 
girdled sides, were a mere allusion. 

It was the wish of his father that he devote himself to 
the profession of arms, but Farel aspired to be a scholar, 
and accordingly, in 1510, he set out for Paris, where, 
presenting himself at the gates of the University he was 
enrolled among the students. It is here, then, that we 
find him with the famous Doctor. 

They seemed to have little in common. The one was 
old, and the other young ; the one bold and self-reliant, 
and the other timid and retiring. But there was a bond 



436 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

underneath the surface which knitted their kindred souls. 
Such attributes as nobility, unselfishness and devotion, 
while the points of contrast only served to bind them 
more firmly together. It was while the change was tak- 
ing place in the mind of the teacher that the dawn began 
to break in the mind of his pupil. It became necessary 
for young Farel to determine whether he should press 
forward with Lefevre, or turn backward into the dark- 
ness. He chose the former, and for a brief season 
Jacques Lefevre and William Farel shone like twin stars 
in the morning sky of the Reformation of France. The 
influence of Lefevre was quiet and powerful. The un- 
compromising, bold advocacy of the Gospel by Farel 
was as brilliant as it was powerful. 

Farel now directed his steps toward the grand moun- 
tains which had been his home. He planted the stand-^ 
ard of the. cross on the shores of the Lake of Neuchatel, 
and on those of the Leman, and finally bore it through 
the gates of the city of Geneva. 

But these two figures are not to stand alone ; a third 
is to be added. Descended from a noble family, a man 
of affairs, William Bri9onnet was sent while yet a young 
man on a mission to Rome. It was the most magnifi- 
cent of Popes who then sat in the Vatican ; and Bricon- 
net's visit to the eternal city gave him an opportunity 
to see the Papacy in the noon of its glory, although past 
the meridian of its power. 

It was this Pope to whom is ascribed the saying, 
'•What a profitable affair this fable of Christ has been 
to us." 

To Luther in his cell alone with his sins and his con- 
science, the Gospel was a reality. To Leo, amidst 
his courtiers buffoons, and dances, the Gospel was 
a fable. But whatever this fable might be to man, 



Farel Returns, 



437 



it certainly had filled Rome, not with virtues, but 
with golden dignities, desecrating honors and voluptu- 
ous devices. This fable had clothed the ministers of the 
church in purple, seated them every day at sumptuous 
tables, surrounded them with trains of liveried attend- 
ants, and spread couches of down upon which to rest their 




JOHN FAREL. 



wearied frames, worn out with the excitement of the chase 
and the pleasures of the table. The citizens of Rome 
had no need to toil or to spin, for the gold of Christen- 
dom flowed thither. 

They shed the juice of the grape copiously at their 



4j8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

banquets, and the blood of one another copiously in their 
quarrels. 

What an enigma was presented to Briconnet, when, 
as Bishop of Meaux, he again visited the eternal city. 
How empty the virtues ! How full of religion ! 

Images and crucifixes crowded every niche of the city 
walls. Tapers and holy signs filled the dwellings. 
Processions of shorn priests, hooded monks and veiled 
nuns swept along the streets, with banner, chant and 
floating incense. It needed only that their virtues be as 
shining as their garments, to make the city of the Pope 
the most resplendant in the Universe. 

When Briconnet at last departed on his way to his 
native country, he had more things upon which to medi- 
tate than crowded his brain when he came thither. We 
can almost imagine him saying as he descends the 
slope of the Apennines, which shut out from his view the 
last glance of the eternal city, "Has not the Pope spoken 
infallibly at last, and is it not after all a fable ?" On 
his return to his diocese he found a new era opening be- 
fore his astonished gaze. 

The force of the awakening had startled the slumber- 
ers of Meaux, and he thirsted to taste the new knowl- 
edge which was transforming the lives and gladdening the 
hearts of so many as had received it. 

He asked Lefevre to tell him whence came this new 
light. 

Lefevre replied by placing the Bible in his hands and 
saying, "It is all in that book." 

Opening this mysterious volume, the Bishop found 
what he had missed at Rome, and he took his place in the 
little circle of disciples which the Gospel had already 
gathered around itself in France. 

Perhaps in the progress of the Reformation in France 



New Characters. 439 

no man was more powerful than the Bishop of Meaux. 
He saw what France needed ; one question only arose, — 
Where should the work begin ? 

He could see no better place than his own diocese, and 
he at once set about the work of reformation. 

He removed ignorant Cures and supplied their places 
with men able to teach the New Testament ; and he as- 
cended the pulpit himself, preaching to the people 
throughout the various parishes of the diocese. 

We now meet in the progress of our study two new 
characters, one, the sister of the King, Margaret of 
Valois ; the other, the King himself, Francis I, who as 
cended the throne just as the day was breaking over 
Europe. 

Francis aspn'edto be a great King, but by the moral 
instability of his character, his many great qualities were 
somewhat tarnished. Passionately fond of his sister, he 
was led by her to do many noble deeds which could never 
otherwise have been recorded of him. And although in- 
fluenced by her after her conversion to Protestantism, he 
still cast his lot with Rome, and staking crown, kingdom 
and salvation upon the issue, gave battle to the Reforma- 
tion. The King of France was on the side of progress, 
and the Reformers believed that he would accept Prot- 
estantism for the sake of the unfettering of the mind and 
the advancement of the intellectual which would fol- 
low. But this was not the case. 

The victories which were to be gained were not to be 
aided by Royalty, but wrought out by the conflicts of 
the scholars. The dungeon and the stake were the ar- 
guments which would be used. 

It was the ambition of the aged Lefevre to see, before 
he died, the Bible translated into his mother- tongue ; and 
on the 12th of Oct., 1524, he completed and published the 



440 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

New Testament. The Bishop of Meaux furthered with 
all his power the work of Lefevre, and, through his 
steward, distributed many copies of the four Gospels to 
the poor, gratis. 

A general reformation of manners followed the en- 
trance of Protestantism into Meaux. Topers in the wine 
shops became fewer, and beggiag friars found it neces- 
sary to engage in some useful employment. Images, if 
they could have spoken, would have complained of the 
scarcity of coins and candles which were left before them. 
Blasphemies and quarrels ceased to be heard in the 
public streets ; and the mutterings of a storm were heard 
in Paris. The Sorbonne, that ancient champion of ortho- 
doxy, saw Protestantism arising in the capital, and be- 
held its flames capping the edifices of the faith. It awoke 
from its slumber and taking alarm, called upon the 
King to put down the new opinions by force. While not 
responding quite so zealously as the Sorbonne would 
have liked, Francis was not ready to patronize Protest- 
tantism. He had no love for the monks, and he had a len- 
ient disposition toward men of genius. He forbade the 
Sorbonne to erect the scaffold. Feeling that their place 
was insecure, Farel and Lefevre took up their residence 
at Meaux, and here the glory which had departed from 
Paris kindled the little provincial town into a center 
which drew all eyes toward it. As in England, in Ger- 
many, in Switzerland ; even so in France was Protestant- 
ism cradled amidst tempests. 

We have said that at an early stage of this Reformation 
in France the New Testament was translated into the 
vernacular. This was followed by aversion of the psalms 
of David, which appeared at the time when the field of 
Pavia was being stricken. At the request of Calvin, 
one Marot undertook the task of versifying the psalms, 



Protestantism at Meaux. 4.4.1 

which resulted in thirty of them being rendered into 
metre. They were published in Paris in 1541, and dedi- 
cated to Francis I. In a little while all France fell to 
singing psalms. They displaced all their songs in the 
palace as well as upon the streets, and even Henry II. 
himself was heard to sing them. This one thing con- 
tributed greatly to the downfall of Popery. It was in 
accord with the genius of the nation, and it was practised 
both in the temple and at the hearth-stone. To strange 
uses they were sometimes put. The King being fond of 
hunting, adopted as his favorite psalm, "As pants the 
hart for water brooks," etc. The priests, fearing that 
their province was not only being encroached upon, but 
they were losing what remnant of power the}' had, had 
recourse to the expediency of translating the odes of 
Horace and setting them to music, in the vain hope that 
the Pagan poet would supplant the Hebrew one. Dur- 
ing the storm of Romish wrath which broke out against 
Marot, he fled to Geneva, where he added twenty other 
psalms to the thirty previously published, which as a 
Psalter, was issued from the press in Geneva, with a 
preface by Calvin in 1543. Rome forbade the book, and 
the people were the more eager to possess it. 

There were two men in the capital, sworn champions of 
darkness. One was Beda, the head of the Sorbonne, and 
the other, the defender of the old orthodox}'. Not that 
the latter cared a straw for the religion which he defended, 
but he found his defence in the line of his own personal 
advancement. 

About this time the parliament was convoked, and the 
Bishop of Meaux summoned before it. Briconnet at 
first refused to make any concessions, but at length the 
alternative was put before him to recant, or go to prison. 
It was a moment of supreme suspense ; but the die is 



442 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

cast. Brigonnet declines the stake ; and by paying a 
fine, he was on the 12th of April, 1523, sent back to his 
diocese, where he published three edicts : the first, re- 
storing public prayers to the Virgin and the saints ; 
the second forbade anyone to buy or read the books of 
Luther ; while the third enjoined silence on all Pretest- 
ant preachers. This was a severe blow to the disciples 
at Meaux. They were dreaming of a beautiful day, when 
the storm clouds gathered over the sunrise. Farel went 
to Switzerland, and Lefevre to Strasburg, while the 
majority of the flock, too poor to flee, too weak to 
maintain its grounds, fell before the blow of the 
tempest. 

Bri9onnet had recanted ; and a long and terrible roll 
on which it was so difficult to write one's name, was about 
to be unfolded. It was not the roll of the dead, but of 
the living. While their more illustrious contemporaries 
disappeared into the darkness, to be seen and heard of 
no more, the men whose names were found upon this roll 
came out into the light and shone in undimmed glory. 
The ages rolled past, telling that not only from palaces 
do the notable of earth appear, but from the lowliness ot 
common life ; from the dungeons and hovels of the poor. 

As in other nations, so here, France saw the won- 
drous and great sight of men burned to ashes, yet 
living. The first stake was planted in the capital of 
France. It was in the Place de Grave. Here were the 
first French martyrs burned. But three hundred years 
after the blazing stake of the Reformation was seen, 
there came another visitant to France, and upon the 
same spot set up its guillotine. It was surely not by 
chance that on the Place de Grave where the first mar- 
tyrs of the Reformation were burned, the first victims of 
the Revolution were guillotined. It is not necessary for 




to - 

Ji * 

mm 

w 



First Martyrdoms of France. 4.4.5 

us to follow the long list of martyrdoms whose lurid 
light made Rome memorable for three hundred years, 
but to turn rather more closely to the appearance of a 
man whose influence upon the movements of his time 
was second only to that of Luther, and whose wonder- 
ful intellectual activity has led the theological thought 
of several centuries. Not as in Germany did the great 
leader come before us unheralded ; not from some dark 
cell, startling the world by the suddenness of his appear- 
ance, did John Calvin step upon the stage. Luther 
arose like a star which suddenly blazes forth in a dark 
sky. Calvin came like the dawn, sweetly and softly 
touching the mountain-top, and stealiry becoming bright- 
er until the whole heavens were illuminated. He first 
saw the light on the 10th of July, 1509, in Picardy. 
He was of delicate mould, small of stature, pale of feat- 
ure, with a bright, burning eye, and an air of timidity 
and silence. 

He was thoughtful beyond his years throughout his 
childhood, and devout as well, according to the stand- 
ards of the Roman Church. When about ten years of 
age he left the paternal home, and entered the service of 
the lords of the neighborhood. He was educated at the 
cost of his father with the children of the nobility, thus 
acquiring a certain polish of manner which would have 
been impossible under his father's roof. 

With ease, young Calvin mastered what it cost his 
fellow students much labor to acquire. His knowledge 
seemed to come intuitively. At the age of twelve he was 
appointed to the chaplaincy of a small church termed La 
Gesine, where, on the eve of Corpus Christi in the year 
1521, his head was solemnly shorn by the Bishop, and 
he became a member of the clergy of that church of 
which he was soon to become a most powerful oppo- 
nent. 



4.46 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

For two years he resided in his native town, holding 
his title but discharging no duties of his office. The 
pestilence called the "black death" spread through the 
district, and the chapter petitioned for leave to live else- 
where during its ravages. This petition was granted in 
1523, in the month of August, where flying the pestilence, 
the future Reformer quitted his father's house as the Rom- 
ish historians put it, to catch another pestilence. Cal- 
vin went to Paris and entered the college. Here he 
came under the instruction of Mathurine Codier, who 
soon saw that he had a pupil of no ordinary genius be- 
fore him, and after a few days' acquaintance the pupil of 
fourteen and the man of fifty became inseparable. It is 
quite a remarkable fact that the reformers of the two 
great countries were really formers of the language of 
their own native lands. As in Germany Luther was 
the father of German, so in France was Calvin the father 
of the French tongue. It is true there had been a lan- 
guage in both these countries, a French and a German, 
before there was a Calvin and a Luther. But it is due 
to these men to say that they made the language useful, 
and established in it a permanent written and spoken 
form. They found coarse, meagre material, of narrow 
compass, of doubtful utility, the vehicle of low ideas. 
They infused a new life, widened the compass, and made 
a new language in each case infinitely finer and more 
flexible than it ever was before. Again, they elevated 
and sanctified it by pouring into it the treasures of relig- 
ious truth, enriching it with a multitude of new terms, 
and filling it with celestial fire. This transformation 
was partly accomplished by new thinking and new feeling, 
and because it came from the deeper fountain-head of 
being, it became simply the out-come of the life of the 
people by whom it was spoken. 



Calvin at Paris. 44.Q 

In 1526 Calvin entered the college of Montaigne, in 
Paris. In crossing the threshold of this seminary, he 
found himself in a new, but hardly a better atmosphere. 
The air seemed musty with the dogmas of the school- 
men. So ardent was he in the pursuit of knowledge, 
that he passed days without eating, and nights without 
sleeping. His teachers formed the highest hopes of his 
future, and prognosticated for him nothing less than the 
purple of a Cardinal. It is not necessary for us to 
enter into the story of his emancipation from the bonds 
of Rome. He contemplated the papacy, not as it was 
in reality, but as idealized in his own mind. Yet he 
saw on the Place De Grave many exhibitions of religious 
fortitude which caused serious questions to arise in his 
mind, as to the power which enabled men to withstand 
not only the curse of Rome, but the torture of her burn- 
ing stake. One day the great bell of Notre Dame had 
summoned all Paris, and with it Calvin, to see how two 
men could stand undisma} 7 ed the fiery ordeal. As he 
witnessed the struggle, there seemed to pass over his 
mind new thoughts. The light of the ghastly fire 
seemed to throw into deeper shadows the traditions of 
popery. 

The contest which now agitated the mind of 
Calvin was sharp and terrible. It seemed that the old 
and new times met within him, struggling one with an- 
other, whether he realized it or not ; as the one or the 
other conquers, so will a new day rise or fade on Chris- 
tendom. The doubts by which his soul was shaken grew 
in strength with every new discussion which he had with 
Lefevre. To forsake the church would be to acknowl- 
edge that he had lived in error all his life. That seemed 
to him like throwing himself into the gulf of perdition. 
Yet he realizes that the church cannot save him. The 



450 Young People's History of Protestafitism. 

new light which breaks upon him reveals to him her 
dogmas melting away, the ground beneath him sinking. 
The tempest was not in his intellect alone, its seat was 
in the soul and the conscience. There was a sense of guilt 
and apprehension of wrath. So long as he had to do 
with saints, and characters a little holier than himself, 
it was well. But in the presence of the infinitely Holy 
One, he saw the vileness of sin in the clear light of di- 
vine purity, and he stood in the presence of that law 
which says "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." The 
severity of this struggle was in proportion to his self- 
righteousness. The blamelessness of his life, the inten- 
sity of his natural devotion, had nourished this into 
vigor and surprising strength. 

Calvin went to his confessor and told him not all, but 
as much as he dared. With a few anodynes which he 
received from the priest, he strove to persuade himself 
that his trouble was assuaged, but he found how futile 
was this endeavor. It was in the midst of the great 
billows of doubt and agony that his feet suddenly 
touched the bottom, and he realized that in accepting 
the Christ of the New Testament, he stood upon the 
Rock. 

The most formidable obstacle, namely the church, 
which now stood in his way, was speedily removed by 
the promise, "Lo, I am with you alway." He turned 
from the church to the Bible, and stood up in the liberty 
wherewith he had been made free, and found sweet rest 
after a great conflict ; a placid dawn after a night of 
thick darkness. From the very force of his nature, Cal- 
vin became the centre of the Reformation in France, and 
later, the centre of the Reformation in all Christendom. 
To trace the successive steps of his career is to trace the 
movements of Protestantism during his life. He soon 



Margaret of Valois. 



451 



leaves Paris, and directs his steps to Orleans. In that 
city was a famous university, and in that university a 
famous Professor styled u the prince of jurists,"' under 



i!!f#!ifi 
illf 




whose instruction Calvin began the study of juris- 
prudence. Sitting at the feet of this famous doctor, 
the future Reformer sharpened that intellect which in 



452 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

days to come was to unravel so many mysteries, and 
dissolve the force of so man} 7 spells which enchained 
the souls of men. While his fellow students were 
noisy, and a pleasure-loving set, the purity of Calvin, 
untouched by soil or stain, joined to his lofty genius, 
made him the admiration of his comrades. We find him 
a little later at Bourges. Here Margaret of Valois, who 
had become Queen of Navarre, prepared to protect in 
others the gospel which she herself loved. This famous 
cit} 7 became the centre of evangelicism. The fame of 
the young scholar had preceded him, and the Protestants 
gathered around him intreating him to become their 
teacher. But he was averse to assuming the office. 
Not that he shrank from the labors and perils, but ra- 
ther from a sense of the greatness of the work, and his 
unworthiness to undertake it. Both his timidity and 
love of study held him back. He preferred a hiding 
place, where, safe from intrusion he might continue the 
pursuit of wisdom in which he delighted. Every day, 
however, his slender form and sallow face might be 
seen entering the door of a cottage, where he gathered 
the family around him, and opening the Bible explained 
to them some divine message. By and by, the city 
became too narrow ; his work extended to the towns and 
hamlets around Bourges. The palace of the noble was 
open as well as the cottage of the peasant. The monks 
tried to stop the work by imprisoning the workmen, but 
this was not easy in a town under the jurisdiction of 
Margaret of Valois. It was at this time that Calvin 
learned of the death of his father, and he hastened to 
Noyan, the place of his birth. On this journey he 
passed through Paris, which was just then in a state of 
great excitement, as a martyr's stake had recently been 
planted in it, and another victim was offered at the 



Calvin Returns to Paris. 455 

time that Calvin reached there. It is not necessary for 
us to go into detail here, of the executions which oc- 
curred at the Place De Grave. Prominent among these, 
however, is that of Berquin, who attired himself in 
pleasant, even in gay apparel in order that he might 
be presented that day at court ; not that of Francis, 
but that of the Monarch of the Universe. 

It was the monks who set the populace of Paris of 
1793, the base example of stifling upon the scaffold the 
sabred words of the dying. The death of this martyr 
was not the death of the cause. The ashes of Berquin 
became fruitful seeds of the faith, and the mantle which 
fell from him as he passed up in the chariot of fire, fell 
on many who were standing near the spot from which 
he ascended. Principally upon one who looked upward 
through the smoky air, and seemed to hear the last 
words of the martyr encouraging him to take up the 
work where it had fallen, and spread through France 
and the world the truth which lives though all men die. 

Calvin passed on through Paris to Noyan. Behind him 
the stake of Berquin in whose ashes so many hopes lay 
buried ; before him the home of his childhood, where no 
longer a father's welcome awaited him. Around, in 
the horizon of France, the clouds rolled up from every 
quarter, striking terror to the hearts of those who look- 
ed upward to behold the sky lighted by the "day-spring 
from on high." After two months at home, Calvin quitted 
his native place and returned to Paris, which was at 
the time ringing with a warfare partly literary, partly 
theological. Here he gathered up the broken threads 
of his labors, and entered a field which seemed rapidly 
ripening for the harvest. 

Here he pursues a similar course of instruction to 
that which he followed at Bourges, where he goes his 



456 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

rounds in the streets and lanes, explaining the Bible in 
the vulgar tongue. About this time we find Francis in- 
teresting himself to a certain degree in the pursuits of 
literature and extending his hand to Henry VIII. of Eng- 
land ; and Margaret, the sister of the king, believed 
that the hour had come' when Francis and the kingdom 
would place themselves in the path of reform, and that 
no blood would again be spilled on the soil of 
France. Full of these hopes, her zeal and courage grew 
stronger day b} T day. Knowing that she stood near the 
throne, Christendom looked to her to stand between the 
oppressor and his victim, and prayed that she would 
avert so far as possible the stain of innocent blood from 
the hands and throne of her brother. It was her desire 
that the gospel should be preached in every house in 
France. The carnival of 1533 was ended. Francis was 
wearied of the whirl and excitement of the Saturnalia, 
and Margaret, for the time mistress ot the situation, 
summoned Eoussel, and ordered him to preach the 
"great tidings" to the population of Paris from his 
pulpits. The timid evangelist was terrified. He told 
her of the danger and exclaimed that he was not the 
man. 

Margaret, however, was insistant, and issued orders 
that the churches of Paris should be opened to him, but 
the Sorbonne lifted up its voice and commanded the 
doors to be closed. Margaret opened a chapel in the 
Louvre, where each day, at a certain hour, a sermon was 
preached under the royal roof. Paris opened its eyes in 
wonder. The king's palace had been turned into a Lu- 
theran conventicle. Many of the grandees of France, 
and a crowd of people of all ranks, filled the stairway 
and saloon, where, grouped around the preacher, stood 
the King and Queen of J^avarre, listening to the Scrip- 



The Gospel. 45Q 

tures as they were expounded with clearness and great 
impressiveness. Day by day the crowds increased. 
The assembly was brilliant as it was numerous. Fran- 
cis granted the request of Margaret that two of the city 
churches be opened, where, together with the gathering 
at the Louvre, the gospel was preached as fearlessly and 
impressively as it ever had been or has since been 
throughout any land. The churches were filled ; drunk- 
ards became sober, the idle industrious, the disorderly 
peaceful, and libertines became chaste. The cry went 
up from the Sorbonne, "Let us burn this teacher as we 
burned Berquin." Neither the king nor the archbishop 
would grant them permission. They now set their 
preachers to work exciting the populace of Paris against 
these heretical teachers ; nor was their labor in vain. 

The excitable populace caught fire, and fanatical 
crowds paraded the streets, demanding the life of the brave 
Reformer. It was the crisis of France. If Paris were 
won, France would follow. But Paris was deaf to the 
voice of Truth, and from that hour the destiny of France 
was changed. For a moment the sun looked forth, and 
lo ! there comes another tempest, black as night, bearing 
on its wings a fiery shower to scorch the miserable land. 
The massacre of St. Bartholomew, the wars of the six- 
teenth and seventeenth centuries, the Revolution of the 
eighteenth, and the Communism of the nineteenth, were 
but the more notable outbursts of the slowly revolving 
storm which for three centuries devastated the land of 
France. 

Looking back through the course of three hundred 
years, it is easy for us to discern that the year 1533 
was one of the grand turning-points in the history 
of France. Between the stake of Berquin and that of 
Alexander there were three years during which 



460 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the gospel was preached freely in the capital. Five 
thousand men and women daily passed in at the gates of 
the Louvre to listen to Roussel. The choice of Paris, 
when put to the test, was, "We will abide by the Pope," 
and the word of the famous city was the choice of 
France. In the spring of 1534 the churches of Paris 
were closed, sermons suppressed, three hundred Luther- 
ans were swept off to prison, and soon to the stake of 
martyrdom. 

Since 1529, the date of Calvin's return to Paris, he 
had by no means been idle, his first endeavor being to 
lay solidly the foundations of the Reformation which 
should be able to withstand all the winds of persecution 
which might blow against it. Leaving the knots of quar- 
relers upon the streets, he preferred to visit from house 
to house, winning attention not alone by his natural shy- 
ness, but by the sweetness ot his discourse as well. It 
was in October, 1533 (the session of the University was 
to open on the first of November) , when one Nicholas 
Cop, rector of the ISorbonne, was expected to grace the 
occasion with an inaugural discourse. Calvin waited on 
his friend Cop, and insisted that he should preach the 
doctrine of the Reformation, Calvin to write the dis- 
course, and Cop to read it. The first of November ar- 
rived. The brilliant assembly entered the church, while 
on a bench apart sat Calvin, with an air of indifference. 
Cop arose, and proceeded amidst a profound silence 
with an oration in praise of Christian philosophy. 

The key-note of the discourse was the grace of God, the 
sole fountain of man's renewal, pardon and eternal life. 
Blank astonishment was seen upon the faces of the audi- 
ence. Countenances here and there kindled with de- 
light ; many listeners became uneasy in their seats ; fiery 
glances shot from beneath sternly-knit brows, and fierce 



Fleeing from Paris. 46 j 

monks exchanged whispers one with another. They 
saw through the disguise. It seemed to them a desecra- 
tion of their festival ; a blow struck at the foundations 
of Rome. Not a word about saints, although delivered 
upon All-Saints' Day. Heresy had reared its head in 
the very Sorbonne. Cop was denounced to the Parlia- 
ment, summoned to its bar, and was immediately, while 
yet attired in his robes of office, led away to the palace 
of justice, where the pressing crowd whispered in his ear 
that he was marching to his death. Cop fled to Basle, 
and thus escaped his fiery trial. It soon became ru- 
mored that Calvin was the author of this address, and 
while sitting quietly in his room, he was suddenly 
startled by a knocking at the outer gate, and the heavy 
tramp of officers through the corridor. In one moment 
more Calvin would have been on the .-way to the concierge- 
rie out of which he would only come to the stake. Some 
friends who had brought the alarm parle} T ed with the 
officers at the door, while others seized the sheets off the 
bed, twisted them into a rope, fastened it to the window, 
and lowered Calvin to the street. 

With rapid strides he reached the suburbs, where he 
secured the coat of a peasant, and with a garden hoe 
upon his shoulder, he set forth on his journey toward 
safety. He passed through Tours, traversed the great 
plains watered by the silvery Loire, and after some weeks 
reached the birthplace of Margaret of Navarre. Upon ar- 
riving at Angouleme, he at once visited the family of Du 
Tillet, the acquaintance of whom he had made at Paris. 
He needed rest and time for reading and reflection. The 
library of this chateau was one of the finest in France, 
containing, it is said, more than four thousand volumes. 
Here he spent several weeks, and in his great thirst for 
knowledge, hardly stopped either to eat or sleep. Here 



4.64 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

he began the work of his Institutes, which D'Aubigne 
styles the finest work of the Reformaion. 

Having spent half a year in this retreat, he went north- 
ward to Poitiers. This town was only two leagues dis- 
tant from the famous battle-field where the Black Prince 
won his memorable victory in 1556. Here, nearly two 
hundred years later, the humble soldier begins a greater 
battle, which should not only change the character of the 
place, but the face of Christendom for all time. Here 
the evangelization of France first took systematic form, 
by Calvin gathering around him a school of professors, 
lawyers, counts, tradesmen, and men of all conditions of 
life. 

A deep and narrow ravine, through which runs a lit- 
tle rivulet, winds past the city, and has to this day 
borne the name of "Calvin's grotto." Here, while 
watched by the Romanists, little groups found their 
way beside the flowing torrent, and beneath the beetling 
cliffs. Here, hour after hour, the Scriptures were ex- 
pounded by the young Reformer. Here, too, the first 
Protestant communion of the Lord's Supper was hel^. 
No chant of priest, no swell of organ accompanied the 
service, nothing save the expression of gratitude and 
devotion which arose from that rocky chamber before the 
throne of Heaven. As the result of his labors, there 
was a little congregation of Protestants growing up 
around him. It also became a center from which young 
men went out to teach the truth throughout the length 
and breadth of the land. One of these young men, 
called Vernon, was seized while crossing the Alps, and 
burned at Chambrey. About this time Calvin visited 
his birthplace for the last time. 

We now meet a character who figured largely in the 
time of which we speak, and who has been called the hn- 



Catherine de Medici. 



4^5 



man tigress of the world. Her cradle was rocked in an 
Italian valley, over which hung the balmiest skies, and 
around which towered the lovliest mountains, conspicu- 
ous among which is the classic Fiesole. Cosmo was the 
founder of the house from which sprung a bright-eyed 
girl who bore the name of Catherine de Medici. A 




CATHERINE DE MEDICI. 



name in itself sweet and innocent as any other, but 
which in the course of time became one of the most ter- 
rific in history, and the mention of which evokes only 
tragedy and horror. 

Catherine was the daughter of Lorenzo II., and an as- 



466 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

trologer was said to have foretold at her births that she 
would ruin the house from which she sprung. She grew 
up possessed of few good qualities, but concentrating 
all the bad qualities of the race to which she belonged. 
She had a broad understanding and a large heart, 
greedy of power, loving splendor, and as prodigal and 
lavish in her habits as Leo X., and as fond of pleasure. 
It mattered little who occupied the throne, Catherine 
was the ruler of France. 

The marriage of Catherine de Medici with Henry, the 
the future king of France, was celebrated by Pope Clem- 
ence VII., who having concluded the ceremony, re- 
turned to his own land. He had come doubly armed to 
the very borders of Protestantism, holding Margaret in 
one hand, and a bull of anathema in the other ; the first 
of which he left as a legacy to France, the second he 
hurled against the Lutherans. Two countries had been 
united by a new link. The keys and the Fleur de Lis 
were joined for better or worse. Borne by gentle winds 
across the uneasy Gulf of Lyons, the Pontiff's galley 
had sailed away over a glassy sea. A shroud and a 
grave awaited him at Rome, while political turbulence 
and ecclesiastical tempests awaited in Paris the return 
of Henry and his young bride. He had not long been at 
the Vatican when he set his house in order and died on 
the 25th of September, 1534, having held the papal 
throne for ten years. The evil which he had done was 
not interred with his bones. His niece lived after him, 
and it seems that her presence darkened the light, and 
tainted the very soil where she moved. She was sunny 
as her own beautiful skies, but it seemed that a curs e 
lurked beneath her smile. The gates of Paris indeed 
closed against the Reformer, but opened to the crafty 
woman. He who would have restored France was 



The Diet of Augsburg. 4.67 

chased from it. She who was to fill it with vice was 
welcomed with demonstrations of joy. Protestantism 
could never mount the throne where a woman like Cath- 
erine de Medici sat upon its steps. The two chiefs of 
the great drama which now opens are fairly upon the 
stage. The one was of humble lineage ; the other of the 
Royal House of Tuscany. One was hidden in the soli- 
tary village among the hills of Switzerland ; the other 
sat in a palace with the resources of a kingdom at her 
command. There were steps to be taken, however, be- 
fore Catherine sat upon the throne, or Calvin reached 
Geneva. 

At this time a diet was assembled at Augsburg, where 
Luther and Melancthon were the representatives of Prot- 
estantism, and princes were the representatives of polit- 
ical policy. It was the scheme of Francis to establish 
a bond of union for Christendom, by which Lutherisru 
and Romanism should be combined, and over the fail- 
ure of which there is no need of the present day to ex- 
press sorrow. Calvin had nearly reached the age of 
twent}-five. We find him setting out from Poitiers at 
the end of April, 1534, accompanied \>y Du Tillet, who 
had espoused the cause of the young Reformer, and who 
had not learned that it required something stronger than 
personal love to enable him to believe or adhere to the 
gospel which Calvin preached. 

About this time Calvin met Michael Servetus, a Span- 
iard of the same age as Calvin, endowed with a wonder- 
ful intellect and a strong speculative turn of mind. He 
not only soared above Romanism, but Protestantism as 
well. He sought to establish a religion the corner-stone 
of which was simply Theism, and aimed his stroke at the 
very heart of Christianity as contained in the doctrine of 
the Trinity. Confident not only of his system but of his 



4.68 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ability to establish it, he had for j^ears led the life of a 
knight, wandering through the various countries, seek- 
ing those with whom he could battle. Having heard of 
Calvin, he threw down the gage to him, and Calvin fear- 
ing that if he should decline to come to the front, it 
would be interpreted as a confession that Protestants re- 
jected the doctrine of the Trinity, he accepted Servetus's 
challenge. 

We now stand upon the threshold of the era of 
martyrdoms. Councils assembled to discuss the ques- 
tion of the union of Christendom, but the young Prot- 
estant Church was little disposed to shape its policy by 
the wishes or maxims of the court. They believed little 
in the professions of respect made by Francis I., nor did 
the inconsistant humors of the dissolute monarch inspire 
faith. To consign a Romanist to prison to-da} T , and 
burn a Calvinist to-morrow, was hardly considered a 
proof of impartiality. 

So the years glided away, and the Reformation tarried, 
A bolt was forged in Switzerland commonly accredited 
to Farel ; but its trenchant eloquence, burning scorn, 
and terrible energ}^ could hardly have been imparted by 
him alone. It was not a logical thesis, it was not a dog- 
matic tract ; it resembled more a torrent of scathing fire ; 
a tempest which gathered in awful darkness and exploded 
in flashes which eradiated the whole heavens. The pa- 
per was called "True articles on the horrible, great and 
intolerable abuses of Popish mass, invented in direct op- 
position to the holy supper of our Lord and only Media- 
tor and Saviour, Jesus Christ." The document was 
printed in two forms ; the first, in placards to be posted 
on the walls of the towns, and the second, in small slips 
to be scattered about the streets. One Ferrit bore these 
papers from Switzerland to France. Many in the little 



Servetus. 



assembly which read these documents for the first time, 
shrank from the responsibility of publishing a denuncia- 
tion so terrible. It might answer lor Switzerland, but 




MICHAEL SERVETUS. 



France was not Switzerland. The majority, however, 
were impatient of delay, and it was decided that the pa- 
per should be published. The kingdom was divided into 



47 O Young People's History of Protestantism. 

districts, and persons were appointed to undertake the 
hazardous task cf posting these placards. A night was 
selected in which the work was to be done throughout the 
entire nation. It was fixed for the 24th of October, 
1534. 

The eventful night drew on ; the dusk deepened into 
aarkness, darkness into the silence of deserted streets. 
One by one these terrible placards found a place upon 
the walls of the Louvre, the gates of the Sorbonne, the 
doors of the churches, and throughout the rural towns and 
highways of the Kingdom. France had suddenly become 
transformed into a gigantic scroll, and an invisible finger 
had covered it with terrible writing. When morning 
broke, and men throughout the city and town came forth 
at the doors of the houses, the mysterious placard stared 
them in the face. Little groups gathered around each 
paper. Groups swelled into crowds. Some read with 
approbation, some with horror. Others were transported 
with rage, and frightful rumors began to circulate among 
the masses. The priests, however, were not greatly dis- 
pleased. For a long time they had been waiting to strike 
a heavy blow. The opportunity had presented itself. 
The storm had burst. The king summoned his Par- 
liament to execute swift justice. He commanded his 
officers to bring to trial every one suspected of being 
concerned in this business. Suspicion at once fell upon 
a poor Protestant, a sheath-maker by trade, as having 
been concerned in the posting of the placards. At all 
events, he would know the Protestants most iikely to be 
interested in the undertaking. He was told that the 
King was aware that he knew every Lutheran in Paris, 
and that he must conduct the officers to their doors. He 
refused to do this, and was told that he must repair im- 
mediately to the scaffold. Terrified by this horrible 



The Terror. 4J1 

fate, he became a betrayer. The King's lieutenant, one 
Morin by name, endeavored now to throw his net so as 
to enclose all the Protestants in the city. He according- 
ly arranged a procession of the Corpus Christi, on the 
pretence of expiating the affront put upon the Holy Sac- 
rament. The houses were draped in black along the 
line of the procession. The traitor and the lieutenant 
walked together in advance of the cortege, and when 
they came opposite a house where a Protestant resided, 
the sheath-maker without saying a word, stopped and 
made a sign. The officers entered the house, manacled 
the inmates, and led them away. 

Onward through the streets of Paris passed the strange 
multitude. The crowd of on-lookers increased as did 
the mournful train of victims. It was the first day of 
the Reign of Terror. Tidings spread throughout the 
city that the "Lieutenant Criminal" was abroad. Fear 
marched before him, lamentation and cries of sorrow 
followed in his train. No distinction was made among 
those suspected. Neither sex nor nationality were ex- 
empt. It was now that the Parliament and Sorbonne 
determined to put an end to the King's intercourse with 
German and English Protestants. To accomplish this 
they endeavored to maintain popular indignation at a 
white heat. It was necessary to attribute to the Prot- 
estants the most atrocious designs. They were ac- 
cused of seeking the life of the King, the overthrow of 
the Monarchy, the destruction of society itself. It was 
said that they had determined to destroy Paris until 
there should not be one stone left upon another, and 
make of the fair fields of France a barren desert. 
Neither then nor since, has a fragment of proof of such 
a design ever been produced. 

Three hundred years have passed away : Protestant- 



472 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

ism is well nigh stamped out in France, but neither 
thrones nor republics have found stability in the hearts of 
the people, nor has the nation found an hour of tranquility. 
Thrones have been overturned ; the blood of nobles and 
priests has been spilled like water. Public monuments 
have turned to ashes ; the sword of the assassin has car- 
ried terror from end to end of France ; and to-day the 
descendants of those who raised the false cry against 
the Protestants are seeking with torch and sword the 
overthrow of all social conditions, and the banishment 
of God from the Universe. The first of that company 
gathered by Morin who trod the path from the prison 
to the stake, and from the stake to the crown, was Bar- 
tholomew Millom ; a poor paralytic through whose 
death they hoped to throw an air of derision over the 
martyrs and their cause. A slow fire awaited him at the 
Place de Grave, but he bore the tortures with admira- 
ble courage., and no words but those of peace fell from 
his lips. The next day De Bourg, a wealthy tradesman, 
was taken from prison to his own house. lie had his 
hand cut off, and was then taken to the Halles where he 
was burnt alive, on the 18th of November. 

As day followed day, eacb had its victim ; Roussel, Ber- 
thaud and Courault, the favorite preachers of the Queen 
of Navarre, barely escaped. Hundreds fled to places of 
safety beyond the Alps, choosing exile rather than the 
stake. The planting of stakes did not, however, satisfy 
the thirst for blood. A grand procession was arranged 
to come off on the 21st of January, 1535, the horrors of 
which make the day famous through Tall time, as it 
was the act not only of the king, but of the nation itself. 

The day arrived and crowds poured into the city. In 
front of the Louvre as early as six in the morning, the 
procession was marshalled. The white gown of the 



The Procession. 473 

Dominican, the coarse brown gown of the Franciscan, 
the funnel-shaped cowl of the Capuchin were seen in the 
procession. Following the monks, walked the priests 
and canons of the city. Relics of saints, the head of 
St. Louis, a bit of the true cross, a crown of thorns, 
one of the nails, the swaddling clothes of Christ, the 
purple robe, the towel with which he girded himself at 
supper, the spear which pierced his side ; all these were 
borne in the procession. In the midst of this grand 
show was carried the Host, by the Bishop of Paris, under 
a magnificent canopy. Immediately following was the 
king, who wore no crown nor robe of state, but walked 
on foot with uncovered head. He was there in the char- 
acter of a mourner. He mourned not for the debauch- 
eries that filled his court, nor for the righteous blood 
that stained the streets of his city. He did no penance 
for violated oaths or forgotten promises ; solely did he 
suffer for all those of his subjects who dared to attack 
the mass, and publish their protest against blasphem} T 
and iclolatiy. Later in the day the king delivered a 
speech in which he called upon all loyal subjects to ex- 
tirpate the wicked creatures who would blaspheme the 
mass. He called upon all as he was their king, to 
deliver up father, mother or child, if they had become 
spotted with this heresy. The people swore to him an 
oath to live and die in the Catholic faith. 

Later in the day the procession passed by the church 
where now stands the Pantheon. In this great square 
scaffolds had been erected on which the subjects of 
France were to burned alive, their fagots to be lighted 
on the approach of the king who was to witness their 
execution. The method by which some were to suffer 
was most ingenious in torture. An upright beam was 
planted in the ground to which another beam was at- 



474- Young People's History of Protestantism. 

tached crosswise, worked by a pulley and rope. The 
martyr was fastened to one end of the beam by his 
hands which were tied behind him. He was raised into 
the air and then let down into a slow fire underneath 
him. After a minute or two of broiling he was raised 
again and let drop a second time. This was continued 
until the ropes were burned away and he fell amidst the 
burning coals, where he gave up the ghost. The first to 
be brought forward for the entertainment of the king 
was one Nicholus Valeton. He was followed by two 
other martyrs ; the king and all the procession remaining 
to witness the cruel sport, expressing the wish the victims 
feel themselves die. The procession moved from the church 
toward the Louvre, and the scene of part of this tragedy 
is no doubt not very far from the spot where, two hun- 
dred and fifty years later, the scaffold was erected for 
Louis XVI. and twenty-eight hundred other victims at 
the Revolution. Scaffolds were prepared along the en- 
tire line of march, and before the procession reached the 
Louvre more victims were added to the number. 

Immediately after this procession Francis I. attempted 
to negotiate with the German Protestants. In excuse 
for his acts the king claimed that he had not been burn- 
ing Lutherans, but executing traitors. He offered Mel- 
ancthon inducements to take up his abode in Paris. The 
king, no doubt, determined to crush heresy, and the men 
of letters who were gathered at his court, fearing their 
words might be construed into heresy, quitted Paris lest 
their blood should mingle with that of the believers in 
the Reformed faith. Francis declared printing abolished 
throughout France, under pain of the gallows. It be- 
came necsssary for Margaret of Valois, the king's sister, 
to withdraw, knowing that even the palace would be in- 
sufficient to protect her from the stake. 



The Procession. 475 

Charles I. with his court, and Charles V. with his 
armies, were strong powers moving across the stage with 
great noise and magnificent display, but Calvin at this 
time was no less real than they, and half a century had 
not passed before his strength and their impotence were 
manifest to every reader of hist try. Changes have 
effaced the traces left by these great monarchs, 
but Calvin's work endures and goes forward with 
the ages. We now find him in Strasburg, a city which 
stood like a mailed warrior where the great roads of 
Northern Europe intersect one another. It was not 
alone the battle-ground of France, Germany and the 
Rhine Provinces, but it discharged a friendly office to the 
persecuted children of the Reformation ; it was a free city, 
and offered asylum to exiles from the adjoining countries. 




CHAPTER XXXI. 



CALVIN AT STRASBURG. 



Calvin found at Strasburg, Bucer, Capito, and Hedio, 
earnest reformers like himself, who had been living there 
for some time. Their views of the Reformation, and 
ideas, lacked depth and comprehensiveness, while their 
scheme of the Reformation was narrow and defective. 
Calvin relished their piety and learning, however, without 
accepting the path which the}' followed, midway between 
Wittemberg and Rome. This path it was impossible for 
Calvin to understand ; to him there were two ideas, a true 
and a false ; there could be, therefore, but two paths, and 
the attempt to make a third was, in his judgment, to walk 
entirety in the road which led to Rome. It is necessarj' 
to state that all of the great minds of the Reformation 
were with Calvin on this point. 

Calvin wearied of hearing, day after day, plans which, 
at their best, could have only patched and soldered to- 
gether a hopeless and rotten S3 r stem. Leaving Strasburg, 
he followed the course of the Rhine to Basle. This famous 
city forms the gate of Switzerland, as one enters it from 
Germany. Much as the scene presents itself to the tour- 
ist of to-da} T , so did it appear to Calvin more than three 
centuries ago. The stream which rolled its milk-white 
flood to the sea had borne the ashes of Huss and Jerome, 
to bury them grandly in the ocean. The crescent-like 
line of buildings, and the long wooden bridge that spans 
the Rhine ; the minster towers, beneath whose shadow 
iEcolampadius already rested from his labor ; the emerald 
476 



Calvin at Basle. 4.J7 

valleys, sunny glades, and the tall pines on the eastern 
hills ; while away in the south, the azure tops of the Jura 
peering over the landscape, presented the same beautiful 
picture as to-day. Troubled was the world around him. 
Tempests of ambition, battles and stakes made it by no 
means a pleasant dwelling-place. It stood out in strong- 
contrast to this quiet valley. The distant peaks spoke 
words of peaceful welcome to the weary-hearted exile, 
and here he began to compose his Institutes. Calvin 
found an obscure corner, where he could work without 
interruption. A few earnest men he sought, whose soci- 
ety he enjoyed, but being inflexibly bent on the great ends 
for which he had come, he made few acquaintances. 

While Calvin was pursuing his studies in his quiet at 
Basle, dreadful tidings reached him from the Rhine, — 
earl}' tidings of individual martyrs, then of wholesale bar- 
barities. The news plunged him into profound sorrow. 
He vividly realized the scenes which wrung so man}' 
hearts with anguish ; he had but recently trodden the 
streets where these tragedies were enacted ; he knew the 
men who were enduring cruel deaths ; in their houses he 
had sat at their tables ; in the sanctuary he had held 
sweet converse with them concerning the things of God. 
He could no longer be silent. 

It is not necessary for us to enter into elaborate details 
regarding the construction of the first edition of Calvin's 
Institutes of the Christian Religion. During the centu- 
ries which preceded Calvin, the world had been filled with 
theories and systems, consisting of abstraction piled upon 
abstraction, speculation upon speculation, ever straying 
farther from the true source, the revelation of God. There 
was much investigation, but little knowledge. Both 
Luther and Calvin discarded the favorite philosophy of 
the times, and adopted what might be termed the method 



478 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



of Bacon, although Bacon had not yet been born. Calvin 
took his stand upon the open field of revelation, and pro- 
ceeded to build up a sj^stem of knowledge upon it. He 
accepted God as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and as 
found in the human conscience. This was the beginning.. 




MELANCTHON. 



this was the end. Luther was not a great systematizer ; 
Melancthon was more logical in his work. Each subse- 
quent confession of faith, as established by the Diets, 
was more systematic than the former. Much remained 
for Calvin, to thoroughly systematize doctrines as set 
forth in the confessions of faith established by the coun- 
cils of the Diets which had preceded him. Calvin had the 



Calvin's Institutes. 47Q 

rare faculty of taking his reader by the hand, and leading 
him around the entire territory of truth, showing him its 
strength and grandeur ; its height and solidity ; its gates, 
by which it is approached ; the order which reigns within ; 
the glory of God, which illuminates it ; the river of life by 
which it is watered. His survey of the supernatural truth 
was more complete than any which had been given to the 
world at that time. His s}'stem was not without error ; 
Calvin himself did not maintain that it was. Neither was 
it a caricature, as some of his followers have presented it. 
Calvin found himself face to face w r ith tremendous facts ; 
such as God's sovereignty and man's freedom. Both he 
maintained and believed, the one as firmly as the other. 
He did not attempt to reconcile the two, and left the ques- 
tion to be solved by deeper researches and the fuller light 
of ages yet to come. 

The first edition of the Institutes contained only six 
chapters. It is curious to note that the publication of the 
work was in the midyear of Calvin's life. Twenty-seven 
years had he spent in preparing for it and writing it ; 
twenty-seven years did he continue to expand and perfect 
it. It was a strong arm that uplifted before the world the 
banner which, thrown loose upon the winds, made a rally- 
ing-point for the children of the Reformation. His book 
became the most powerful of preachers. Its style was 
flexible, transparent, and powerful. The free and majes- 
tic march of his thoughts finds words of fitting simplicity- 
and grandeur, and without conscious effort arranges the 
great truths in harmonious periods. "In giving France 
a religion, Calvin at the same time gave France a lan- 
guage." 

It is necessary for us to turn our thoughts from the 
stage where Protestantism has been jostled by dukes, pre- 
lates, and emperors ; where, amidst the blaze of state 



480 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

pageantries, it has signalized its victories with flame- 
wrought shrouds and martyr stakes, to the little town 
whose name histoiy had hardly deigned to mention, aud 
whose size was almost annihilated by the mighty moun- 
tains amidst which it had nestled. 

The stage is narrow, and stripped of all pomp. We 
must view Protestantism as a principle in itself, great in 
its sublimit}' and power, mighty in those impulses by 
which it is sent abroad, } r et occupying as its centre the 
extremely limited area known as the city of Geneva. 

It is in a valley, with the Jura on one side, and the 
snow3 T Alps on the other, at the foot of the mirror-like 
Lake Leman. The little town looks down upon placid 
waters, and beholds itself mirrored clearly but not grandly. 
Far awa} r , the gigantic piles of the Alps, and the glisten- 
ing brow of Mont Blanc seem to bend over the city which 
they guard. 

Voltaire sneeringly said, as the diminutive size of the 
city provoked his sarcasm, "When I dress nry peruke, I 
powder the whole republic." The Emperor Paul sarcasti- 
cally gave rise to the well-known phrase, when he referred 
to the struggles of its citizens, as " a tempest in a tea- 
pot." 

Small, however, as the town was, it brought pallor into 
the face of monarchs. From the mighty grasp of em- 
perors it plucked the sceptre, and showed the world what 
may be done to perpetuate the sway of even a small people, 
by making itself the metropolis of moral and spiritual 
power. 

We will not attempt to go into the past, but accept her 
as she is at the moment Calvin enters her now historic 
gates. 

On the 15th of September, 1525, Charles III., Duke of 
Savoy, surprised Geneva with a numerous host, and cap- 



Geneva. 481 

tured it. Summoning a council which accepted at his hands 
vows of allegiance to the city, which allegiance was extorted 
from the citizens with the axes of the halberdiers suspended 
over their heads, the vow given to-day was broken to- 
morrow. Influenced by a mysterious fear, the duke left the 
city, never again to enter it. The patriots, who had fled 
upon the entrance of Charles, carried the fire of their pa- 
triotism to other cities, where they not only came in con- 
tact with hearts burning with the same aspirations, but 
had the opportunity to study the higher models of freedom 
among those with whom they had come in contact. 
When they returned, a j^ear later, after the flight of the 
Duke, a new era returned with them. Geneva, from its 
geographical position, was important in the great struggle 
for Swiss liberty. As it was the extreme southern settle- 
ment, barring the road of the invader from Italy, it 
was important that chivalry and devotion be stimulated, 
in order to hold this Swiss Thermopj'lae against the south- 
ern invader. 

Geneva had taken a long stride toward independence. 
The duke had fled across the mountains, to return no 
more. Bern and Friburg had formed allegiance with it. 
The spirited citizens ignored the sceptre of prince-bishop, 
and the pope realized that the day had come when his own 
powerful rod was likely to be plucked from his hand and 
broken in pieces by the strength and purity of a liberty- 
loving people. 

We have met already Farel, descending from the moun- 
tains of Dauphine, and entering himself a pupil at the 
Sorbonne. We have already followed him, an exile from 
France, as he turned his steps toward Switzerland. It 
will be remembered that this is the second Reformation 
within the borders of this little country. The first we 
have traced ; beginning with the preaching of Zwingle, and 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



ending with his death, when the sword gave the victory to 
Romanism. 

Farel entered Switzerland in 1526, where he mounted 
the pulpit with a bold look, a voice of thunder, and a 
burning eye. His words, rapid, eloquent, and stamped 
with the majesty of truth, touched the hearts of those who 
were already prepared to take the Bible for their guide. 
Priests and people raised a great clamor, but the lords of 
the district sent a commission to Farel, empowering him 
to explain the Scriptures to the people. Tumult followed 
tumult. A tempest seemed gathering, but Farel was un- 
dismayed. Wishing to prevent bloodshed, he left Aigle, 
where he had been preaching, and took his way toward 
some other part of this beautiful but benighted land. 
Whither should he go? 

Lausanne was a city of great importance. Tall cathe- 
dral towers soared aloft from their commanding site. 
Thither he directed his steps, but only to be repulsed. 
Turning aside, he traversed the country which divides the 
Leman from the Lake of Neuchatel, and arrived at Morat. 

The majority of the citizens, after hearing him preach, 
decided to abide by Rome. He retraced his steps, and 
presented himself a second time at Lausanne. Again was 
he forced to leave the cit} r and search for other fields. He 
presented himself before the gates of Neuchatel. 

The revelry and riot of this city were notorious. In the 
midst of their banqueting and scandals, their indulgences 
and state pomp, they were startled by a man of small 
stature, stentorian voice, and glittering eye, who preached 
to them a religion not from Rome, but from the Bible. 

The men with shaven crowns were astonished at his 
doctrine. When their indignation found voice, they cried, 
"Let- us beat out his brains!" "Duck him, duck 
him ! " cried others. Far above all this clamor, Farel's 



Farce at Geneva. 4.83 

voice was heard, ringing through the wildernesses of their 
consciences, and his preaching was felt to be no idle tale. 

With the power of his eloquence, Xeuchatel was carried 
by storm. Having kindled the fire which he knew nothing 
could extinguish, Farel passed on to evangelize the whole 
count n* round about, where, throughout the winter of 
1530, cold, hunger, and weariness were his constant com- 
panions. 

In October, 1532, Farel, accompanied by Saunier, real- 
ized his long-cherished desire of visiting Geneva. The 
next day after entering the city he preached twice, and 
was listened to by the elite of the citizens, and by the 
multitude thirsting for the Gospel in its purity. He 
preached to them the absolutely free forgiveness of sin- 
ners, based on the ground of a perfect expiation of human 
guilt. This was in direct opposition to the pardon of the 
pope, which had to be bought with money or penances. 
" This," exclaimed Farel. " is the Gospel : this, and noth- 
ing short, is liberty, as it is the enfranchisement of the 
whole man, body and conscience." 

Old Geneva passed away under the melting eloquence 
of his words, and in its place came a new Geneva, which 
the pope could not circumvent, nor the arm of the emperor 
subdue. The two preachers were summoned before the 
town council, and their acquittal awakened the fears of 
the priests, and with their fears grew also their anger. 

The tempests which arose around them on all sides were 
indeed terrible. Whenever they appeared a mob followed 
them, brandishing weapons, hissing and howling, until it 
seemed that they must die upon the spot. It became 
necessary for them to seek another place. Farel was too 
powerful, and had too great prestige to begin the work. 
The seeds must be sown with a gentler hand ; they must 
grow up in a quiet atmosphere, and not until they have 



484 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

taken root can the winds be allowed to blow. A comet 
blazed forth in their sky, and it portended war. 

A young man by the name of Fremont established him- 
self as a teacher in Geneva. Hiring a small room, he 
taught the children of the schools, and the children taught 
their parents when they returned home. Thus the work 
began, so was it continued. The workmen retired, but 
the work went on. The people read the Scriptures, and 
chose a pastor to preach to them ; and in the walled gar- 
den just beside the cit}' gates, a little band of laborers 
celebrated the supper of our Lord, after the manner of the 
Reformers. 

The sun rising over the Alps shed its first rays upon 
this gathered company, singing with faith and fervor, — 

" His coining like the morn shall be, 
Like morning songs, His voice," 

and here was celebrated the first communion in Geneva. 
But that morning song sounded the death-knell of the 
papac} 7 ; the three warriors who were able to batter down 
the strongholds of Rome had now gathered within the 
walls of the little city. 

Farel had returned, Viret, and Fremont ; these form an 
arm}', wielding the sword of the Spirit, clad in the pan- 
oply of light, and uttering words, the echoes of which 
spread outward to France, to England, to Germany. 
Wherever the sound of their voices is wafted the friends of 
the Gospel and of liberty look up, while the adherents of 
Rome hang their heads, as if in the presence of a terrible 
disaster. 

Geneva has become Protestant in its faith. The Prot- 
estants were forbidden to destroy images by the council of 
the city ; the Catholics were enjoined to cease from the 



Edict. 485 

celebration of the Mass. This was the first political step 
of the Reformation. 

On the 27th of August, 1535, the Mass ceased to be 
said in the churches and convents, and from that day for- 
ward Farel and his colleagues dispensed the sacrament 
of the Lord's Supper and performed other rites of the 
church freely. The victory, though great, did not termi- 
nate the war. 

The duke, roused to fury, blockaded it on all sides, and 
threatened to reduce by famine the strength of these 
haught}' burghers, who had dared to be true to their con- 
victions of right. 

It was not until the 13th of January, 1536, that the 
council of Bern resolved to declare war upon the duke, 
and aid the suffering city ; on the 16th they issued a proc- 
lamation of war ; on the 22d their array of six thousand 
began their march. 

Dangers around Geneva thickened. Rich citizens kept 
their granaries closed, and within, famine stared them in 
the face. Suffice it to saj^, that when the attempt was 
made by the besieging army to scale the walls, the coura- 
geous Genevese engaged with double their number of 
assailants, courageously held their ground, and success- 
fully defended themselves, without the loss of a man. 

Disaster after disaster followed the duke's army as it 
fled from Geneva, followed as it was hy the lo\ T al cohorts 
of Bern. When the men of Bern ceased following, ene- 
mies seemed to start up from all sides of the duke. The 
King of France declared war against him, and succeeded 
in securing the kingdoms of Savoy and Piedmont. 

An edict issued on the 27th of August, 1535, pro- 
claimed Protestantism as the religion of Geneva, but the 
decree did not make it so. The great task of making the 
people Protestant was yet to be done. Although manj T 



486 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

loved the Gospel for its own sake, it was necessary to 
make the lives as well as the professions of the people 
Protestant. This was a work of time. 

The first confession of faith consisted of twenty-one 
articles, and was sworn to b}^ all the citizens of the city. 
It was composed by Farel and Calvin, who had then 
joined him. 

It is interesting to note that it was with feelings of mis- 
giving that Farel for the first time looked upon the author 
of the Institutes. He beheld a man small of stature and 
of sickly mien, with shoulders seemingly ill-fitted for the 
Atlas-like burden to be borne. 

Here in this little city, the calm lake at its feet, the 
glories of the distant mountains in the sk}- , Calvin lived 
for twenty-eight years, and here he fell asleep, when his 
work was done, to rest on the banks of the river whose 
" arrowy" stream he had so often crossed 

Those w r ho have ever stood in the cathedral where Cal- 
vin preached, or was "appointed to give lessons on the 
Scriptures," those who have sat in his chair, will have 
little difficult}' in bringing before the imagination the man 
whose rare genius for organization and system, whose 
profound wisdom, calm strength, and sublimity of prin- 
ciple, carried his name on through three hundred } T ears 
of history, and left it still bright and imperishable. 

He was not long in compiling a brief and comprehen- 
sive creed, and adding to it a catechism adapted to adults. 
He cared not for lifting up of hands in solemn oath to 
abide by the Institutes of the reformed faith ; he cared 
more for the bowing of hearts, and that faith which work- 
eth righteousness. He took the Jewish theocracy for his 
model, and set to work to frame the republic. 

At the same time, the essential distinction was made 
between things civil and things ecclesiastical, and these 



Calvin at Geneva. 487 

things were placed in distinct jurisdiction. However, 
Calvin was more successful with the ecclesiastical than 
with the civil authority. He held a distinction, but by no 
means a separation. At least there should be, in his 
mind, an alliance between the ecclesiastical and civil 
power, but each should act independently in its own do- 
main, with mutual respect and mutual support. 

Calvin's theological code was followed by one of morals. 
They had known little of discipline for centuries. The 
clergy had been profligate, the government tyrannical, 
and, as a consequence, the people were demoralized. 
The rules now framed in the Genevese republic forbade 
games of chance, oaths and blasphemies, dances and mas- 
querades. Of course it is to be understood that these 
dances were of the most lascivious and disgusting char- 
acter. Youths paraded the streets at certain seasons 
quite naked, or in masques representing the god Bacchus, 
dancing and singing ribald songs. Many of these prac- 
tices had been vainly forbidden under severe penalties 
previous to the time of Calvin. The hours of public 
houses were shortened, and people were ordered to be at 
home by nine o'clock at night. The British government 
at this da}^ adopts the principles of the Genevan regula- 
tions regarding gambling, indecent pictures and plays, 
and similar immoralities, even as does America. 

This second battle, which was with the vices of the 
people, was more difficult of victory. The citizens con- 
sidered it enough that they had shed their blood to have 
the Gospel preached to them, without being put into the 
scales of righteousness, where they were so often found 
wanting. 

While the troubles consequent upon these reforms were 
convulsing the city, another invasion threatened it. Their 
old enemies renewed their attempts to recover Geneva. 



488 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



The government of Bern interfered in the direction of 
affairs, which still further aggravated the condition of the 
besieged city. 

The famous quarrel of the Libertines reached its climax 
on the morning of Easter Sunday, 1538, when both Farel 
and Calvin joined in the protest against the desire of the 
Libertines for the use of unleavened bread in the adminis- 
tration of the Lord's Supper. 

The two men who stood together in this crisis were of 
the same spirit, but greatly unlike in their office. Farel 
was an orator ; Calvin was a reasoner. The first swaj^ed 
masses by the tide of his eloquence in terrible invectives 
and denunciation ; his passion was like the thunder-storm 
of the Alps. Calvin, however, never thundered ; but 
there was a terrible calmness in his passionless reason. 
He was apart, and above all around him ; above fear, and 
above even the council, whose authority was dwarfed 
before the moral majest3 T which seemed to clothe the man. 

On this Easter evening he began his sermon in the 
presence of unsheathed swords ; his eyes were dazzled 
by the gleam of naked blades. Infuriated men pressed 
forward to the pulpit, but the stroke which would have 
ended not only the life of Calvin and the career of Ge- 
neva, but the new movement of the Reformation, did not 
fall. He who had scattered the power of emperors when 
their armies stood in bright and glittering array before 
him, hushed the clamors of the furious mobs, and those 
who came to murder sheathed their swords and went 
quietly to their homes. 

On the following da} T , the council banished Farel and 
Calvin from Geneva. Before being condemned, however, 
Calvin asked to be heard in his own defence, but his re- 
quest was refused. 

It is worth while to note at this point that the principle 



Calvin Ba?iished. 489 

upon which Calvin stood so firmly, and which resulted in 
his banishment from Geneva, was simply the question as 
to whom the sacrament should be administered. It was 
not the question of unleavened bread, but it was that of 
administering the sacrament to Libertines and those whose 
lives were unholy in every particular. 

The banishment of Calvin could not beat down the 
principle. Being divine in itself, it would not perish 
under the blows of unholy men. 

"Holy things are not to be given to the unholy." This 
principle was overborne for the moment, and in the per- 
son of Calvin was driven from Geneva ; but it raised 
itself again, and fifteen } T ears later re-entered Geneva, to 
be crowned with victory. 

Calvin visited Strasburg, where he preached as a pas- 
tor, and lectured every day on theological science. The 
fame of his lectures drew the students from many coun- 
tries, until Strasburg threatened to rival Wittemberg as a 
school of theology'. 

He labored without remuneration, and suffered ex- 
tremely from poverty. Painful as it must have been, he 
wrote to Farel, saying that he did not possess a farthing. 

It is necessary for us to pass over the movements of the 
Church of Rome in relation to Geneva, and the power which 
Calvin, though banished, continued to exert for its protec- 
tion. Calvin had become the centre of the great movement 
— occupying a position somewhat difficult and perilous. 

It is clear to both parties that unless the breach which 
divided Romanism from Protestantism be healed now, the 
controversy must grow into a bitter and sanguinary war, 
prolonged through j^ears of struggle. 

Twenty-five years have passed away in efforts to sup- 
press Protestantism, and during this time the record shows 
little but a series of defeats. 



490 



Young People's History of Protestantism. 



If disputations were held they only exposed the weak- 
ness of the old and the vigor of the new ; conferences only 
wrung some unwilling concession from the feeble party : 
fiery stakes became the seeds from which new martyrs 
sprung. 

Combinations by which they sought to strike heavy 
blows were betrayed, or the ominous figure of the Turk 
started up to startle Rome. So her plans came to nothing. 
The bow was always broken just as the arrow was about 
to be let fly. 

Nearly one half of the European states had opened their 
Bibles, and with their right hand raised to heaven ex- 
claimed, " I protest." Everywhere men were in revolt 
against the ancient sway of Rome. The mother-tongue 
of eveiy nation became dear to the people. Luther's pen 
darted flashes of light over Europe while all the fire of 
Calvin's Institutes illumined every nation. 

Keen-disciplined intellects, ready to expose a sophism 
and confront a falsehood, to laugh at folly and ridicule 
arrogance, gathered around the two great chiefs, Luther 
and Calvin. 

The spirit which underlay the principle of Protestantism 
enabled the disciples to face the rack, the stake, and the 
scaffold without quailing. Against such it was difficult to 
fight. 

On the 25th of June, 1540* a convention was held at 
Hagenau. It was adjourned to meet at Worms on October 
28 ; but on the third day after it had assembled, there 
came letters from the emperor dissolving it, and summon- 
ing it to meet with greater solemnity at Ratisbon, in 
January, 1541. It was not, however, until April that the 
convention opened. 

Although conceding much, the Romanists adhered 
strongly to their doctrine of the Church and of the 






The Roman Sphinx. 4QI 

Lord's Supper. It was impossible that the Protestants 
and Romanists should meet at this point. The stupen- 
dous mystery of tran substantiation — the Roman sphinx, 
whose mystery both the Popish and Protestant worlds 
have attempted to resolve — confronted them. The rid- 
dle is still unread ; the mysteiy still stands unsolved, 
as it did in the day of the Ratisbon convention. It 
was during this convention that the veteran Doctor Eck, 
having been worsted in an argument by Melancthon, drank 
so deep at supper that not onty his sense of discomfiture 
was drowned, but he contracted a fever which kept him 
from taking further part in the debates. 

The Diet was dissolved without accomplishing its pur- 
pose, by the emperor's declaration that a general council 
would speedily convene for the settlement of all the reli- 
gious differences in Christendom. 

We cannot grieve that unity failed. A union on only 
such terms as were then possible would have closed the 
career of Protestantism. The Church of Rome had become 
morally bankrupt. The nations had lost faith in her. 
Pantheism had been springing up throughout three cen- 
turies, and but for the moral breakwater which Luther and 
Calvin erected, the end of the sixteenth century would 
have been flooded, if not drowned, in a wave of pantheistic 
thought. 

Let it be distinctly understood here that the Protestant 
movement did not weaken the angry feelings of the nations 
of which Rome was the object ; it mitigated them and 
diverted them into the channel of scriptural reformation. 
Unhappily Rome mistook her friends for her foes ; and 
those who wish to realize what might have been had not 
Protestantism survived, may read the answer in those 
countries where it was suppressed, and on whose shores 



492 



r oung People's History of Protestantism. 



the oft-recurring tempests of revolution still show that 
within it are principles of eternal unrest. 

The reformation b} 7 Luther had now culminated. One 
great principle had been planted in the hearts of men, — 
" salvation by grace." 

Instead of forming a church and a religious unity the 
German reformation was passing into political action, and 
running ta seed. A new centre we find gathering itself 
around Calvin. 

The movement has again resumed its course. Public 
feeling had for some time been undergoing a change on 
the banks of the Leman. The Libertines and Anabaptists, 
encouraged 03- the defeat which Calvin had sustained, grew 
more and more ungovernable, until tumult ran riot, and 
the year 1539 witnessed the most outrageous saturnalia. 
The helpless council repented of its act. 

On the 21st of September, 1540, the council began to 
devise means to secure the return of the reformer. On 
the 20th of October it passed an order, ' ' to send to Stras- 
burg to fetch Master Jean Calvinus, who is very learned, 
to be our minister in this city." 

Three several delegations were sent to entreat the return 
of the man whom two years before the cit} T had chased from 
its gates with threats of death. It was a critical moment 
not alone in Calvin's history, but that of Christendom. The 
The repentant cit} T opens its gates. Shall he go back? 

He could not forget the contradictions, perils, and 
insults which had filled the } T ears which he had spent 
there. Shall he return to the bed of torture? He was 
exquisitel}' strung, naturally shy, sensitive, and tender. 
The low arts and coarse abuse of his rough, unprincipled 
companions bruised and stung him to the quick. He 
sought for sympattry and love, but he knew he would not 
find them in Geneva. 



Calvin' s Return. #gj 

Loaded with many marks of honor by the city of Stras- 
burg, he began his journey, halting occasionally by the way 
for the solace and the society of friends he most loved, 
or again to settle differences which had sprung up in 
some little flock through which he passed. He entered the 
gates of Geneva, his pale face lighted up with an earnest 
look, and his eagle eye, clear and watchful as though he 
saw the end of his labors even if it be through centuries yet 
to come. A da} 7 or two after his arrival, the great bell of 
Saint Clemence rung out its peal over eity, lake, and the 
adjoining country, calling all devout worshippers around 
the pulpit of Saint Clemence. 

His first demand was for the erection of a court of 
morals, or ecclesiastical discipline, declaring that the 
Church could not hold together unless it had a settled 
form of government, agreed upon b} T its members, and 
such as is prescribed in the Word of God. 

So rapidly did Calvin labor that early in November his 
project was adopted by the council of two hundred, and 
on the 20th by the assembly of the people. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

CALVIN AND SERVETUS. 

We have now come within the shadow of a great 
tragedy. It has been looked at with horror throughout 
the centuries which have intervened. It is considered 
both as a disgrace and as an homage to Protestantism. 
It called forth no condemnation from the age in which it 
occurred, and not a few of the personal enemies of Calvin 
have pronounced it just, and necessary to the preservation 
of peace and the advancement of religious truth. We 
abhor it naturally because of the advance of toleration 
and charity during the last three hundred years. Could 
we appreciate the past more fully, we would not condemn 
without some qualifications the violent death of Michael 
Servetus. In the course of our stor}^ we have met him 
and described him as a Spaniard, born in the same year 
with Calvin, endowed with a lively and fantastic genius, 
an active but illogical mind, a defective judgment, and an 
inordinate ambition. He had studied law, divinity, medi- 
cine, and dabbled in astrolog}^. He had a most distin- 
guished career as a lecturer, in Paris, on the physical 
sciences, and later appeared in Dauphine as a medical 
practitioner. It is said that he anticipated the great dis- 
cover}' of Harvey of the circulation of the blood. Full 
twenty } T ears of his life were spent wandering up and 
down in Christendom, visiting Germany, Italv, and 
Switzerland, venting his notions, unsettling men's minds, 
and offending all with whom he came in contact by his 




^»1 

TOWER OF ST. GILES. 



Calvifi's Warning. ^qj 

pride and dissimulation. He thought that he had received 
a commission to remodel the world, and change the foun- 
dation as well as the source of all knowledge. In the 
course of his mental peregrinations, Christianity became 
the object of his settled dislike and his most virulent 
attacks. But the doctrine of the Trinity received his 
most malignant shafts. He had renounced Romanism in 
his youth, but the Reformation could not satisfy his ideal ; 
like many at the present da} T , he held that Christianity 
belonged to a lost age. He desired to initiate Calvin in- 
to his new S3*stem, by which he was to restore the world. 
He offered him the position of leader in the great move- 
ment b} T which mankind were to enter the grand domain 
of truth. He sent him a volume full of tk stupendous and 
unheard-of things," in which Calvin saw only stupendous 
follies. It was evident to the logical mind of the Reformer 
that Servetus had adopted the pantheistic creed, and that, 
in the unsettled condition of Church and State in Geneva, 
its prevalence there would sweep away the basis on which 
the Republic had been founded. Any attempt on the part 
of Servetus to propagate his doctrine in Geneva would 
necessarily result in the choice between a pantheistic and 
a theocratic Republic, between Servetus and the Reforma- 
tion. 

Of course, Calvin did not hesitate to avow his prefer- 
ence for the Protestant over the pantheistic belief, and he 
declared that should Servetus attempt to visit Geneva, he 
should not depart alive. We must bear in mind that it 
was the universal opinion of the age that heresy should 
be punished by the sword of the Magistrate, as it was a 
crime against civil order. The words of Calvin naturally 
fill us with horror, and yet the truth is we know of no 
Reformer at that age who would, under the circumstances, 
have done differently. It is a fact that this doom which 



4.98 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the Reformers awarded to others, they accepted for 
themselves, should their teaching prove contrary to 
the Faith. 

We are by no means apologists for the severity of 
the decree against Servetus ; but it was the verdict of the 
age. It would be impossible for us to utter such a verdict, 
or the Protestant world of our day to repeat the crime of 
the Protestant world of the sixteenth century. Unfor- 
tunately, we can hardly saj T this of the Romish Church, in- 
asmuch as the barbarities of the Inquisition have in recent 
times been canonized as holy and sacred by their Church, 
which claims to believe to-day what has been believed in 
all times and all ages. 

In 1522, Servetus published a volume which led to his 
apprehension and trial by the Inquisition. He managed 
to give his judges the slip, however, and, by his absence, 
saved them the necessity of " burning him alive at a slow 
fire." The last place towards which he should have 
wended his way was Geneva. Already warned of his 
danger there by Calvin, he chose to rush into certain de- 
struction. Coleridge says, " If ever a poor fanatic thrust 
himself into the flames, it was Servetus." He had been 
warned off the territory, had been refused a safe-conduct, 
and, in the face of all this, with what seemed a fatal mad- 
ness, he precipitated himself upon destruction. 

The Council of Geneva demanded his apprehension. 
The articles of accusation, extracted from his own writ- 
ings, were drawn up by Calvin, and presented at the 
tribunal. The severe logic of the Reformer, on appearing 
before the council, soon unmasked the subtle and eloquent 
reasoning of the prisoner, and forced him to admit the 
frightful conclusions to which his notions led. It was not 
Calvin's purpose to procure a conviction, but a recanta- 
tion. Servetus had disowned his books when brought 



The Crisis of Calvin's Power. 4.99 

before the Inquisition, denied his handwriting, and falsi- 
fied his oath, professing himself a son of the Church. 

Insolent and defiant while at liberty, he was a craven 
coward before the Inquisition. His behavior before the 
Council was now characterized by insolence, now by 
cowardice. He pleaded that he did not wish to blas- 
pheme, and that he was ready to recant. When in- 
troduced to Calvin his rage was ungovernable. He 
denounced him as a liar, a corrupter of the word of God, 
a foe to Christ, a " Simon Magus." This was more than 
the Reformer could bear, and, becoming heated, in his 
turn answered him as he deserved. 

Servetus avowed many blasphemies, and defended him- 
self with shocking and revolting language. He styled the 
Trinity " a three-headed Cerberus." His frenzy was 
such that he did not hesitate to say that divinity dwelt in 
devils. 

It was really the crisis of Calvin's power and of the 
Reformation in the Republic. Servetus, knowing this, 
hoped to secure his banishment from the city. If the 
battle went with Calvin, Servetus must fall ; if with 
Servetus, then Calvin must fall, and the stake and mar- 
tyrdom awaited the one defeated. 

Of the battle between Calvin and the Libertines we 
will not now speak. The}* accepted the issue between the 
Reformer and the madman as theirs, and resolved to in- 
duce the Council to subject both to an oral debate or to 
one carried on in writing. Servetus, with the ardor of 
one well-nigh sure of victor}*, entered into a path where, 
by his own words, he wished to pursue his opponent 
" even till the cause be terminated by the death of him or 
me." 

The Council had previously taken strong sides with the 
Libertines, and had removed its spiritual sentence of 



$00 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

excommunication against one of their number, and 
opened his way to the communion table. One would 
suppose that in the midst of the crisis, where the matter 
of ecclesiastical discipline was so important, Calvin would 
hardly find time to draw up new articles of indictment 
from the works of Servetus. This he however did, 
giving simply references to the text, and handed them 
to the Council without note or comment. It became 
necessary for the Reformer to fight two battles at the same 
time. 

It was towards the close of the month of August. On 
the following Sunday, the first of September, the com- 
munion was to be celebrated ; and unless the edict were 
revoked, the leader of the Libertines would present him- 
self at the sacred table, holding the warrant of the 
Council in his hand. He called all the pastors together, 
and with them proceeded to the Council. He there 
maintained that the former decision was a violation of 
both the laws of the state and of scripture. The 
people, he said, had adopted the edict establishing 
the spiritual power of the spiritual court. Therefore the 
action of the little Council was unlawful. The pastors, to 
a man, joined in the declaration that the} T would "lay 
down their offices and leave their churches," rather than 
suffer the contemplated profanation. The Council declared 
that it would not change its decree. B3' thus taking into 
its own hands the spiritual authority, the Council assumed 
the right of trying and judging Servetus. 

Sunda}' morning came ; an eventful day for the centu- 
ries which were to follow it. It would decide whether 
Protestantism would go forth to re-conquer Christendom, 
or fall before obstacles be}'ond its strength. Twice the 
great movement had failed. First, among the Albigen- 
ses, next among the Bohemians. It was the third move- 



Calvin Confounding the Libertines. jot 

ment, coming nearer to the goal than either of the others 
— after all, to fall short of it. 

The great bell Clemence tolled out its summons. Over 
city, lake, and plain there brooded a deep stillness. The 
crowds which filled the church manifested a feeling of 
unrest. The congregration, of all ranks, stood with their 
hands upon their sword hilts. The elite of the Libertines 
had decided to communicate. Calvin rose as usual to 
begin the service in the pulpit of Saint Peter's. He 
preached upon the state of the mind in which one should 
partake of the Lord's Supper. Coming down from the 
pulpit, he blessed the wine and bread, and was about to 
distribute them to the congregation. The Libertines 
made a movement as though the}' would seize the 
emblems. Covering the sacred symbols with his hands, 
he exclaimed in a voice which rang through the edifice, 
" These hands you may crush ; these arms you may lop 
off; iny life you ma}* take; my blood is yours, you may 
shed it ; but you shall never force me to give holy things 
to the profane, and dishonor the table of my God." Had 
a thunder peal shook the church from its foundations, the 
consternation of the Libertines could not have been 
greater. As though an invisible power had flung back 
the ungodly host, they slunk away abashed, through a 
passage which the congregation opened for their retreat. 
Nothing more truly sublime is found in the history of the 
Reformation, that epoch of heroic men and great achieve- 
ments. "I cannot," said Luther, at Worms. "I will 
not," said Calvin, at Geneva. The one threw back the 
tyrant, the other repelled the mob ; one faced the haughti- 
ness of power, the other bridled the raging of ungodli- 
ness. The danger was equal, faith and fortitude were 
equal, and each met a great crisis. 

It is unnecessary for us to explain further Calvin's 



J02 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

relation to the subsequent arrest, trial, and death of 
Servetus. We have distinctly stated that he had been 
warned by Calvin, and the action of the Council in taking 
upon itself the responsibility of the spiritual tribunal 
relieved him of the responsibility of Servetus' condemna- 
tion and death. 

It remains for us only to speak of the passing away of 
this great man, whose body, never robust, had become 
the seat of numerous maladies which made his life a 
torture. Implored to take rest, Calvin would not cease 
his labors. He saw a rest coming with the deepening 
shadows, and insisted that his work must go on. 

The last time he appeared in the pulpit was on the 
6th of Februaiy, 1564. Here a hemorrhage stopped his 
utterance while speaking. On his death-bed were riveted 
the eyes of the world. Rome waited the issue with 
intense excitement. 

Shortly before his death, he was borne to the door of 
the Council-chamber, where he proposed a new rector 
for the school ; then, taking off his cap, he thanked 
the Council for the kindness he had experienced at its 
hands, saying, "I feel that this is the last time I 
shall stand here." A little later the Council visited 
him at his house, where he exhorted them to maintain 
ever inviolate the cit}' which God had destined to high 
ends. He held out his hand to them, which they one 
at a time pressed, and retired from the death-bed of the 
Reformer. 

On Saturday, the 27th of May, he seemed to suffer 
less ; but at eight o'clock in the evening, signs of death 
were apparent. Beza, who had been summoned to his 
bedside just in time to see him expire, says: "And thus 
on this day, with the setting sun, the brightest light in the 
church of God on earth was taken back to heaven." And 



The Deathbed of Francis I. 503 

the event, chronicled in the register, read, " Went to God, 
Saturday, the 27th." 

We now return to France, where we will glance rapidly 
over the movements which resulted in the massacre 
known as Saint Bartholomew. 

On the 31st of March, 1547, priests, courtiers, and 
courtesans were gathered around the bed upon which 
Francis I. was dying. There seems to lie upon the mind 
of the King some dark shadow, as if he were horrified 
at the sight of some unutterable woe. He starts, and a 
quick tremor runs through all his frame. Mustering his 
fast- failing strength, he cries out that it is not he who is 
to blame, inasmuch as his orders were exceeded. What 
orders ? we ask. What deed is it which so burdens the 
memoiy of the dying monarch? It is the memory of 
Provence. It is the thought of twent}'-two towns sacked 
and burned with an inhumanity at which history stands 
appalled ; of devastation in which the men were not 
exempt from execution, nor the women from excesses of 
brutality which made nature blush. It was the thought 
of seven hundred men murdered in cold blood ; and 
women shut up in barns filled with straw, to which fire 
was set ; and all because they believed the simple tenets 
of the Reformation as against the superstitions of Rome. 
A dark road, smoking and blood-sprinkled, lay behind 
him, the Judgment-Seat before. 

Henry II. now mounted the throne. Trouble soon 
manifested itself, and parties were formed which it is 
necessary to describe briefly, in order to make the subse- 
quent history more intelligible. 

At the head of the first party was Anne de Montmorency, 
high constable of France. Possessing great strength of 
will, he pursued his ends without caring, whom he trod 
down in his wa}-. Having been banished from court by 



S°4 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Francis I., he came back with brow more elate, and an 
air befitting one who had come to possess the throne. 
When Henry assumed the reins of government, the con- 
stable was devout beyond measure, obeying the rules of the 
Church implicitly, ceasing occasionally from his prayers to 
order his servant to string up this or that Huguenot, or to 
set fire to the property of some neighbor who was his enemy. 

The second part}* was that of the Guises, the dominant 
family during one of the darkest eras of the nation. 
Against these men Henry had been warned by his father. 
Francis and Charles, however, found their way to the 
court and became the acknowledged heads of the Roman 
Catholic party. 

The third part}" was that led by a woman, Diana of 
Poictiers. Twenty years older than the king, of brilliant 
wit and sprightly manners, she contrived to entrap Henry 
by the power and fascination of her intellect. 

The fourth and smallest faction was led by the brave, 
valiant, witty, and polite gentleman named Marshal de 
St. Andre. Neither court nor country was likely to be 
at peace in which he figured. 

Such were the parties that divided the court of Henry 
II. There was little patriotism and less honor among the 
miserable courtiers. There was a brave show — gilded 
saloons, fine raiment, and luxuriant tables ; and yet there 
was a lurking fear that their gay life would reach a sudden 
termination, by the stiletto or the poison-cup. 

Henry II. was controlled by the same spirit of bigotry 
which characterized his father. His councillors were suc- 
cessful in inspiring a terror of Protestantism, as the great 
enenry of monarchs, and the source of all national dis- 
orders. The}* convinced him that should the Huguenots 
prevail, his throne would be trampled to dust, and 
France would be trod beneath the feet of atheists and 



Execution of the Bishop of Macon. S°S 

revolutionists. Under such a regime the work of burning 
heretics went on without interruption. 

The years which mark the reign of this King are char- 
acterized b}- heartless frivolity and wanton crueltj', two 
qualities which seldom walk apart. The coronation of 
Catherine de Medici as Queen of France was suitably 
followed b}^ the execution of a large number of Hugue- 
nots, the first of whom was the Bishop of Macon, who 
had incurred the King's displeasure by his reply to Diana 
of Poictiers, when rebuking her for her unmeasured arro- 
gance and cruel persecutions : "Be satisfied, Madam, with 
having infected France, without mingling your venom and 
filth in a matter altogether holy and sacred, as is the reli- 
gion and truth of our Lord Jesus Christ." In order to 
satisfy his hatred for the martyr, the King had prepared 
for himself a window overlooking the pile, where, luxu- 
riously reposing, with the haught}' woman at his side, the 
King watched the consuming fires as they robbed the 
mart}T, inch by inch, of his members. The terrible appa- 
rition rose before Henr} T in his sleep. The ej'es, before 
which he had quailed as he looked out of the window at 
the d}ing man, seemed fastened upon him from amidst the 
flames. Night after night, the terrible apparition stood 
before him, until he took an oath never again to witness 
an execution. 

On the 9th of July, 1550, Paris was again lighted up 
with mart3'r fires. Again, in 1551, the lurid glare an- 
nounced that the spirit of Romanism was exercising its 
refinements of torture upon the adherents of the reformed 
faith. In 1552, vast numbers were executed throughout 
the countiy, as also in the following 3-ear. The scenes of 
martj'rdom were oftentimes the scenes of conversion. 
About this time the gag was brought into use, to prevent 
martyrs from addressing the people at the stake, or sing- 
ing psalms when on their way to the pile. 



Jo6 Young People's History of Protestantism, 

As in the early days of the church, among the moun- 
tains of Italy, so now in France, the army of colporteurs, 
burying among their wares the scriptures, traversed the 
length and breadth of France, Switzerland, and Germany. 
There summer and winter the}' went from door to door, 
always hazarding their lives, often discovered and dragged 
to the stake. By these means the Bible gained admis- 
sion into palace and cottage. Burning, yet not con- 
sumed was the watchword of the Reformed Church in 
that da}\ 

Forty years had now passed since Lefevre had opened 
the gate of France to the Gospel. Fort} T 3'ears of martyr- 
dom and bloodshed had not diminished but increased and 
strengthened the company of Christ's people. A creed 
had been drafted that all might confess, a code of disci- 
pline to which all might submit, yet not fettering the 
private judgment or restricting the rights of individual 
congregations. It was rather the shield of liberty of 
opinion and liberty of Christian action. 

A national synod was convened on the 25th of May, 
1559, in Paris. At the same moment, Parliament was as- 
sembling with the avowed purpose on the part of the King 
of pursuing with fire and sword the Reformers, until he 
exterminated them from off the face of the earth. In all 
the public places throughout the kingdom, the gibbet was 
standing, awaiting its victims. 

Henry II. went to his grave early in the national deca- 
dence of France. The shadows of a fast-coming calamity 
were rapidly deepening. The army was dispirited by 
constant defeats, the court a hotbed of intrigue ; the 
finances were embarrassed, and the nation on the brink 
of civil war. He was succeeded b} r the eldest of his four 
sons, Francis II. Two corrupt streams mingled in his 
veins — the blood of the Valois, and that of the Medici. 



Gaspard de Coligny. 507 

Feeble in mind and body, the } r oung King was a tool 
most fit for the hand of the bold intriguer. At the foot 
of the throne sat the crafty Catherine de Medici. During 
the lifetime of her husband, her power had been balked. 
Now she hoped to win the ascendency and become sover- 
eign-counsellor of her weak-minded son. B} T the side of 
Francis sat Mary Stuart, heir to the Scottish crown, and 
niece of the Guises. This family now held the advantage 
in the game which was played around the person of the 
King. But Catherine de Medici was a match for them in 
craft and ambition. 

The Guises were the leaders of the Catholic party, and, 
although Catherine was as much a bigot as am T , she 
stooped to caress what she hated in order to grasp the 
power which she loved. There is no doubt that had the 
Guises been alone, the Reformation would have been 
crushed in France, or had Catherine de Medici stood 
alone the same fate must have befallen it. 

Anthoiry de Bourbon now comes upon the stage, in 
obedience to the will of Catherine, and becomes a con- 
spicuous actor in what follows. Through marriage he 
received the title of King of Navarre. Unstable as 
water, he spent his life travelling between the Protestant 
and the Popish camps, unable to adhere to either, and 
despised by both. His brother, the Prince of Conde, of 
greater talent and more manly character, was noted for 
wit in discourse and gallantry of spirit. He attached 
himself to the Protestant side from conviction. He was 
not a great man, nor did he bring that great sagacity, that 
entire devotion of soul, of one who should lead such a 
cause. 

Another important figure is that of Gaspard de Colign} 7 , 
better known as Admiral de Coligny. He was, perhaps, 
the greatest layman of the French Reformation. Born in 



508 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the year in which Luther began the Reformation by the 
publication of his theses ; and on the 24th of August 
fifty j'ears afterward he fell by the poniard of an assas- 
sin in the St. Bartholomew massacre. He had served 
with distinction, had been knighted on the field of battle, 
and in 1547 married a daughter of the house of Laval. 
From the moment he espoused the cause of Protestantism, 
his character seemed to acquire new grandeur. His 
household was arranged in a simple and God-fearing- 
manner. To the gifts of great genius were added the 
graces of Christianity. The grand object of his life was, 
free worship for the reformed in France. Could he have 
secured this, he would have cast honors and titles behind 
him, and been content to live in unknown privacy. 

Terrible as had been the condition of Protestants under 
Heniy II., under Francis II., to use the words of Beza, 
" the rage of Satan broke out be} T ond all former bounds." 
The star of the Guises was in the ascendant. 

The traveller, as he stands on the Place de Greve, can 
hardly realize as he looks around him that this beautiful 
spot was one on which the fires of martyrdom hardly 
ceased to shine throughout that bloody era. 

The Protestants in Paris addressed a petition to the 
Queen-Mother, Catherine de Medici, praying that she 
would pursue a moderate policy in relation to them. 
They had not yet learned that underneath an air of 
sincerity, and even graciousness, there lurked a deadly 
purpose and an intense hatred, which only waited a fitting 
opportunhVy to drench the streets in the blood of those 
subjects who implored her protection. They pleaded that a 
stop might be put to the cruel proceedings, lest the people, 
provoked by such violence, should become desperate and 
break forth into civil commotion, which would ruin the 
kingdom. It suited the Queen-Mother to interpret the 



"Little Geneva." 50Q 

warning as a threat, and the persecution grew hotter 
instead of abating. 

All the tortures of the Inquisition, though not identical 
in form with the Spanish tribunal, were adopted, and 
worked quite as effectually. These courts were presided 
over by judges or inquisitors, who had a body of spies in 
their employ continually hunting for victims. That 
quarter of the cnry known as the Faubourg St. Germain was 
called " little Geneva," from the number of Protestants 
who lived there. 

The footsteps of these spies might be traced in the 
pillage and ruin left behind them in that quarter of Paris. 
Children famished at the doors of their former homes, or 
wandered through the streets crying piteously for bread, 
while their parents languished in prison. Parliament 
made no effort to stop these outrages, which overflowed 
with victims ; cells emptied in the morning were filled 
before night, and the shadow of justice was no longer 
visible. 

Avarice came to the aid of bigotr}\ The persecutors 
shared the estates of those they hunted, and the enrich- 
ment of the court went on by the confiscation of the 
property and the slaughter of its victims. 

It seems to be, as we glance over the pages of this 
period, the reading beforehand the history of that great 
movement, that reign of terror, in which, in after 3'ears, 
the populace became the persecutor and the throne the 
victim. The axe is wielded until the headsman's arms 
are weary. The mob forming the court has this time 
ceased from counting its victims. 

The King is a captive in the hands of the Guises. 
Ruin and outrage stalk defiantly through the kingdom. 
To complain is to be punished. Men stop at the street 
corner and ask of each other, " How long can this thing 



j 10 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

be? " This led to what has been called the " Conspiracy 
of Amboise." It is simply necessary for us to say here 
that Calvin gave his voice against the movement, that 
Admiral Coligny stood aloof from it. In its origin it was 
entirely political. Promoted by both Catholics and 
Protestants, yet it became religious in its development. 

The Prince of Concle was chosen to lead this enterprise, 
but as it was necessary that he should keep himself out of 
sight, Godfrey du Bany became the ostensible leader. 
He entered with prodigious zeal into the affair. He 
organized an army of four hundred horse and a body on 
foot, and the 10th of March, 1560, was chosen as the day 
upon which to begin the execution of their project. 

They marched to the castle of Blois, where the King 
was residing. Surrounding the castle, an unarmed 
deputation craved an audience of the King. The}^ de- 
manded simply liberty of worship, and the dismissal of 
the Guises. The Guises, however, learning something of 
the plot, removed to the castle of Amboise, carrying 
thither the King. Du Barry followed them, but his little 
army was surprised. He fell while fighting bravery, and 
his followers were either cut to pieces or taken prisoners. 
Revenge upon the insurgents was in proportion to the 
former terror of their captives. The market-places of 
the town were covered with scaffolds, where crjdng, one 
after another, the victims were brought and beheaded. 
The windows of the palace were filled with interested 
admirers ; the ladies of the court, including the Scottish 
Mary Stuart, the young King and his lords, feasting their 
eyes on the scenes which were being enacted in front of 
the palace. The blood poured in rushing torrents into 
the silvery waters of the Loire. Not less than twelve hun- 
dred persons perished at that time. For four weeks these 
tragedies continued. The executioners, growing weary 



Death of Francis II. 511 

of despatching their victims one by one, tied them hands 
and feet, and flung them into the river. One gentleman, 
as he bowed his head to the axe, dipped his hands in the 
blood of his butchered comrades, and, holding them to 
heaven, cried, " Lord, behold the blood of thy children 
unjustly slain ; thou wilt avenge it." The appeal was 
answered, but the reply waited for two hundred and 
thirty years. On the banks of the same river, in the 
name of liberty, the same horrible butcheries were perpe- 
trated as these in the name of religion. In spite of all 
this violence, the Reformation advanced. 

It seemed necessary to the Catholic party to secure the 
destruction of the Prince of Conde. He had been con- 
demned, and the Guises were importuning the King to sign 
his death-warrant. The} 7 felt sure that once the head of 
Conde had fallen on the scaffold, the}' could compel every 
man and woman to abjure Protestantism. A form of 
abjuration was already drawn up, the alternative of refus- 
ing to subscribe to which was immediate execution. The 
scaffold upon which Conde was to die had been erected, 
the executioner summoned, the formula was ready to be 
presented to all ranks, without distinction, the moment the 
Prince breathed his last. It appeared that the web had 
been woven complete ; but an unseen finger touched the 
complicated fabric, and the snare was broken. 

The King died on the 5th of December, 1560. at the age 
of seventeen, having reigned only as many months. It 
became necessary for those who had surrounded him to 
provide for their own safety, and the lifeless body of the 
King lay neglected on the bed where he had expired, un- 
til a train, made up of the blind Bishop and two aged do- 
mestics, followed his despised remains to the grave. 

It became necessary for Mary Stuart to return to her 
native soil, and the family of the Guises was scattered. 



512 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

But there stood up one no less the enemy of the Reformers, 
in the form of Catherine de Medici, now supreme in the 
government. With perhaps less open violence but deeper 
craft, and if the stroke were longer delayed, it was only 
that it might be more deadly when it fell. Her son, 
Charles IX., a lad of only nine and a half years, occupied 
the throne. Conde came forth from his prison, snatched, 
as it were, from the scaffold, and restored to liberty. By 
right the regency of France belonged to him, but Catherine 
installed herself in that high office. It was at this moment 
that the Huguenots, as they were called, had a breathing- 
space. 

Both sides were preparing for the inevitable conflict. 
On the Huguenot banner was inscribed, "Liberty of Wor- 
ship," and on that of the Romanists, "The Faith." 
Colign} T , who was the head of the movement now, doubted 
much the wisdom of bringing foreign soldiers into France. 
The Romanist Ro}-alists had employed hirelings of other 
nations, and he felt it necessary to meet them at the head 
of such a force as would enable him to fight with some 
chance of success. Therefore, he received help from those 
who were willing to give it. One ambassador, sent out 
for the purpose, secured from Germany several thousand 
troops, and Queen Elizabeth provided for another ambassa- 
dor 6000 soldiers and 140,000 crowns. 

The Prince of Conde made a final overture to the court 
before unsheathing the sword. He desired that the Edict 
of Toleration be observed until the King attained his ma- 
jority, and then, should he no longer grant liberty of con- 
science to his subjects, the Prince requested that he and 
his followers have libert}^ to retire to some other country 
without prejudice to their goods and lives. France consid- 
ered the proposition and declined the overture. The great 
cities towards the South opened their gates to the soldiers 




MURDER OF GUISE. 



The Huguenot Risi?ig. fif 

of Conde. So in Normancty, and the fortified castles of 
Languedoc and Dauphine. It was in these parts that the 
Reformation had struck its roots most deeply. 

Coligny was really the master genius and director of the 
campaign. His sagacious e} T e perceived that Orleans was 
the true centre of their movement. By shutting the stream 
of the Loire, they, in a measure, isolated Paris, and by 
commanding the Seine at Rouen, and also at a point nearer 
its source, the} T were enabled to stop the transportation of 
provisions from the provinces. 

In the end of June the Huguenots set out to attack 
Paris. A battle was imminent ; but Catherine de Medici 
hit upon an expedient for securing peace, demanding that 
the leaders of the two parties should go into exile until the 
King should have attained his majority and the national 
conflict have subsided. The Triumvirs were to remain 
within call of the Queen -Mother. As the G-uises were 
only to retire from court, the Huguenot leaders felt the 
exile to be not in their favor. The trap was too obvious 
for them to fall into it. The Queen, however, gained her 
end, by avoiding a pitched battle at that moment, which 
would have certainly resulted in a victory for the Hugue- 
nots. 

It was now decided by the authorities at Paris to attack 
Rouen, and force the opening of the river Seine. Enthusi- 
asm for the defence of the city pervaded all ranks. The} 7 
resolved to die upon its walls in maintenance of their 
liberties. 

For five weeks the siege was endured, after which the 
city fell into the hands of the Ro}'alists. A few weeks 
later, the first regular engagement of the civil wars resulted 
in the victor} T perching upon the banner of the Duke of 
Guise. The carnage was great. Eight thousand dead lay 
upon the field, and Guise received his reward by appoint- 



Ji6 Yoimg People's History of Protestantism. 

ment to the position of Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom, 
and Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of France. The 
Prince of Conde was taken prisoner. Coligny was chosen 
leader of the Huguenots. 

About this time the Duke of Guise wrote to the Queen - 
Mother, saying his purpose was to put every man and 
woman in Orleans to the sword, and sow its foundations 
with salt. Such was the terrible programme for purging 
France from the Huguenots. The armies of the Duke had 
already entrenched themselves around the fated cit}\ 

The Duke has ridden out to examine the trenches to see 
that all is ready for the blood}* work of the morrow. Be- 
fore another sun shall set there shall not be left in that 
city anything which has the breath of life. The blood of 
mother and child, of stern warrior and blooming maiden, 
shall pour in one red torrent into the waters of the silvery 
Loire. Parti}* hidden by two walnut trees which shadow 
the road along which the Duke is riding sits a figure on 
horseback. He hears the sound of a horse's hoofs, catches 
a glimpse of a white plume, and knows that it is the Duke 
who is passing. Permitting him to pass, he rides up be- 
hind him and discharges his pistol, the ball of which enters 
his chest through the shoulder. It is not long before it is 
seen that the wound is mortal, and he is carried to his bed, 
from which he rises no more. 

The death of the Duke of Guise returned the govern- 
ment into the hands of Catherine de Medici. Death had 
been the faithful all}' of Catherine, visiting the Louvre 
often since she had made her home beneath its roof. 
Each visit had brought her a step nearer the power, or 
increased her sway. 

The Duke of Guise being dead, there remained no 
longer a rival. Catherine had outlived all who could 
play a part against her, and now it only becomes neces- 



The Massacre of Saint Bartholomew. jzf 

sary that she crush out the Huguenots from the land. 
The policy of craft becomes the most effective. Concilia- 
ting the Protestants with gracious looks and soft words, 
she still contrived to keep their blood flowing. Private 
murder stalked through the land. The poniard of the 
assassin did what the stake and the axe were powerless 
to do. 

It became necessary that she mould her son, Charles 
IX., into her own likeness, and what manly grace and 
noble qualities there were in him were lost in the fetid 
atmosphere of the Louvre. Nothing pure, high, or manly 
could grow in that death-damp of corruption, impiety, 
and blood. 

The synod of La Rochelle, which was the seventh held 
by the Protestants, was a sort of breathing-time — short, 
but beyond measure refreshing. The noon of Protestant- 
ism in France had been reached, and now there remains 
only the swift approaching night. 

The massacre of Saint Bartholomew was plotted under 
the pontificate of Pius V., and enacted under his imme- 
diate successor, Gregory XIII. 

The spirit of Pius V. is clearly indicated by his letter to 
Catherine de Medici, where he promises her the assistance 
of Heaven if she would pursue the enemies of the Roman 
Catholic religion, "till the}" are all massacred, for it is 
only by the entire extermination of heretics that the 
Roman Catholic worship can be restored." 

In 1565, Catherine and the Duke of Alva agreed that 
ridding France of Protestants could be accomplished only 
by death of the Huguenots ; as the}" termed it, by a new 
edition of the Sicilian Vespers. 

On the 22d, as Coligny was returning from the Louvre 
to his house in the Rue des Fosses, St. Germain, he 
was fired upon from the window of a house belonging to 



518 Young Peoples History of Protestantism. 

the Duke of Guise. The assassin escaped on a horse 
from the King's stables, which was waiting him near one 
of the cloisters of the church of L'Auxerrois. 

Later in the cla} T , the Queen-Mother and King entered 
the apartments of the wounded man. The King exclaimed, 
" The hurt is j-ours, th'e grief and outrage mine ; but," 
added he, "I will take vengeance, that it may never be 
effaced from the memory of man." Coligiry urged the 
polic}' which he had so often brought to the attention 
of the King, — that of assisting Orange in his defence 
of Protestantism in the Netherlands, — but without 
results. 

The King now gave orders to close all the gates of 
Paris save two. This was ostensibly to arrest the flight 
of the assassin, but really to prevent the departure of 
the Huguenots. Friday and Saturda} T were spent in con- 
sultation on both sides. Standing on the precincts of a 
colossal crime, the King felt fierce, cruel, and vindic- 
tive. The Queen-Mother told him it was too late to 
retreat. 

It was now eleven o'clock of Saturday night, and the 
massacre was to begin at daybreak. To exasperate and 
stir the people to unlimited butcher}^, the report was cir- 
culated of the discovery of a conspiracy on the part of 
the Huguenots to destro}' the King and ro} T al family, as 
well as the Roman Catholic religion. The Mayor of 
Paris was ordered to assemble the citizens who had been 
before provided with arms. The signal was to be the 
tolling of the bell. At this sound, chains were to be 
drawn across the streets, torches placed in all the win- 
dows, and the Catholics, for distinction, should wear a 
white scarf on their left arm, and a white cross upon their 
hats. Impatiently they waited the sound of the tocsin. 
In the royal chamber sat Charles IX., the Queen-Mother, 



The Signal for the Mcissaere. fig 

and the Duke of Anjou. Stillness reigned in the apart- 
ment and throughout the city. 

In order that, at the last moment, Charles might not 
change his mind, so disturbed as it was at the idea of this 
horrible butchery, the Queen-Mother anticipated the signal 
by sending a person at two o'clock in the morning to ring 
the bell of Saint Germain L'Auxerrois, which was nearer 
than that of the Palace of Justice, the bell of which was 
to give the signal. The loud peal startled the silence, fol- 
lowed immediately by a pistol-shot. The King sprang 
to his feet and ordered the attendants to stop the massacre. 
It was too late ; blood was already flowing. The great 
bell of the palace now added its solemn peal, and in a 
moment every steeple in Paris was sending forth its clang 
of death. Upon the night air was borne the tempest of 
shouts, oaths, and howlings of the assassins. Above all 
was heard the terrible cry of " Kill, kill." 

The massacre of Colign}' had been assigned to the Duke 
of Guise. Accompanied hy three hundred gentlemen, he 
repaired at once to the Admiral's lodgings. Forcing an 
entrance to the Admiral was the work of but a moment. 
Awakened b} T the noise, the Admiral wrapped his dressing- 
gown around him and bade Merlin, his minister, join with 
him in praj'er. One of his gentlemen rushed into the room, 
crying, "Mj'Lord, God calls us to himself." "I am pre- 
pared to die," replied Coligiry ; ''therefore, farewell, my 
friends ; save yourselves if it still be possible." A German 
servant alone remained with his master. The door was 
forced open, and one of the creatures of the Duke of Guise 
cried, " Art thou Coligiry?" " I am. You ought to re- 
spect my gray hairs ; but do what you will — } t ou can only 
shorten my life by a few days." The villain plunged his 
dagger into the Admiral's breast, and then shouted to the 
Duke of Guise, "It is all over." and. taking up the 



520 Young People's History of Protestatitism. 

corpse, he threw it out of the window on to the pavement 
below. 

As in the days of Herod, so now the head of the victim 
was carried to a woman in order to verify the murder. 
Not a shudder escaped Catherine de Medici as the gory 
head of Coligny was handed her by the Duke of Guise. 

All over Paris the bloody work extended. The terrified 
inmates of Protestant homes were brought forth in their 
night-clothes and murdered on their own thresholds. 
Those who were too frightened to come out were massa- 
cred in their beds. The darkness was no cover, as the 
torches which were placed in the windows denied even this 
chance of escape to the poor victims. 

Standing to-day in the square of Louvre, one views the 
scene of the greatest butchery, where some two hundred 
Protestant noblemen from the provinces were dragged 
from beds which had been placed for them in the palace, 
as o-uests of the King, and doomed to die like others. One 
by one the}* were brought out and hacked to pieces, their 
corpses being piled at the gate of the Louvre. When the 
sun rose, it seemed as if the entire population were mad- 
dened with rage or aghast with terror. Man and woman 
fled ; man and woman with drawn daggers pursued. Old 
men and infants were alike butchered. Corpses were 
piled in carts, driven awaj', and tumbled into the river. 
The very sewers ran red. The Seine, as it rolled through 
Paris, seemed to be a river of blood. 

Such was the horror upon which the sun of Sabbath 
morning, August 24, 1572, the daj T consecrated to St. 
Bartholomew in the Romish calendar, looked down. 
For seven days the massacre continued. Not confined to 
the walls of the city, but it spread throughout provinces 
and cities wherever Protestants were found. For two 
months butcheries continued throughout the kingdom. 



Tidings of the Massacre, 521 

Ever}' da^y the poniard and sword reaped their harvest of 
victims, and the rivers bore to the sea a new and ghastly 
burden of corpses. Six thousand perished in Rouen ; 
hundreds at Toulouse ; twelve thousand at Orleans ; and 
at Lyons not a Protestant escaped. The whole number, 
according to De Thou, was two thousand in Paris, and 
Brantome speaks of four thousand bodies that Charles 
might have seen floating down the Seine in obedience to 
his order. There is an uncertainty touching the whole 
number of victims throughout France, but the archbishop 
of Paris, in the seventeenth century, places it at one 
hundred thousand. 

The tidings, as they travelled over Christendom, petri- 
fied some with horror, stirring others with a delirious and 
savage joy. When the}' reached the Netherlands, the 
Spanish army received them with exultation. The skies 
resounded with the roar of cannon, beating of drums, and 
blare of trumpets, and bonfires blazed throughout the 
camp. In England a gloomy sorrow sat on every face ; 
silence as at the dead of night reigned through the 
chambers of the royal residence. 

In Geneva, the people vied with each other in the 
reception of those who had been so fortunate as to flee 
from the fated country, and by sending medicine and 
clothes to those who found safety in the outskirts of 
France. Knox, in Scotland, now old and worn with 
labor, was borne to his pulpit, where he thundered the 
vengeance of Heaven against the murderer and false 
traitor, the King of France. 

Rome received the news with boundless joy. Gregory 
caused a medal to be struck in commemoration of the mas- 
sacre. On one side his own profile ; on the other, an angel 
bearing in one hand a cross, in the other a drawn sword 
with which he is smiting a prostrate host of Protestants. 



$22 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

When the terrible storm of St. Bartholomew Day had 
passed, men looked upon a mass of ruins. A vine which 
had struck its roots in the rich soil of France had by a 
blow been felled to earth, never again to lift its branches 
on high. So thought Charles and the court of France, so 
thought the Escurial and the Vatican, as the} T congratulated 
each other on the success which had crowned their efforts. 

The massacre swept cities and villages with so unspar- 
ing a fur}' that in many places not a Protestant was left. 
Alva and Catherine had dug the grave of Protestantism 
in France, Charles had assisted at its burial, and the Pope 
had reared its gravestone. What right had the Protes- 
tants to speak again? 

But in 1573, on the anniversaiy of St. Bartholomew's 
Day, the Huguenots demanded all the privileges of the 
Pacification of 1570. The mortified Queen-Mother and 
the stupid King were obliged to digest their mortification 
as best they could. Her way was becoming hard. The 
massacre was becoming bitter even to its authors. The 
infatuated woman had dreamed that b} r ridding France of 
Protestantism, Roman Catholicism would be left in quiet 
possession of the country. Strange doctrines made their 
appearance. The distant mutterings of the communism 
of 1871 were heard around the throne of 1789. 

Then followed a few years of doubtful policy, and 
fruitless schemes on the part of the Reformers. During 
these years, Charles IX. was borne to the grave — his 
end hastened by the awful scene which would not quit 
his memoiy, and the remorse which preyed upon his 
mind. There were fearful sounds ringing in his ears at 
night, mingled with cries and awful shouts and shrieks 
and curses, tolling of the bells, the sharp ring of fire- 
arms — in short, he lived ever in the presence of the night 
of the massacre. 



Death of Protestantism in France. 523 

Thus ended the life of the cowardly Charles IX., on 
the 30th of Ma}', 1574, at the age of twenty-five } T ears. 
The Duke of Anjou, heir to the throne, hurried from Poland 
to Paris, and became King of France under the title of 
Henry III. The dagger which took the life of Heniy III. 
removed from the throne the line of the Valois, the race 
which had given thirteen sovereigns to France, and filled 
the throne for two hundred and sixty-one years. 

Henry of Navarre, the Knight of the White Plume, 
ascended the throne by succession. He was by faith 
and education a Protestant, while he found it for the 
advancement of his purpose, in ascending the throne, to 
accept the Catholic faith, although, in winning the throne, 
he had robbed himself of that in the losing of which he 
lost all. 

It is needless for us to continue the narration of the 
stoiy of Protestantism in France. On the 22d of July, 
1593, he solemnly • abjured the Protestant faith, and the 
hope of Protestantism was ended. Slowly the work of 
extermination died out, and, like his own history, that of 
Protestantism in France closed in blood. In 1593, Henry 
set up a throne by abjuration ; in was cast down b} T the 
scaffold in 1793. 



CHAPTER XXXin. 

PROTESTANTISM IN THE NETHERLANDS. 

The great struggle for religion and libert}', of which the 
Netherlands became the theatre, dates properly from that 
moment when, in 1555, Charles V. descended from the 
throne, and elevated into the vacant seat his son, Philip 
II. In the thirteenth centuiy the Church of Rome flour- 
ished throughout the Netherlands, rivalling in power and 
riches the Eternal City itself. 

Bishops of Utrecht were really the Popes of the North, 
and nearly independent. They gave place to neither King 
nor Emperor in the condition or magnificence of their 
court. They were the grandees of the land, levying taxes 
on others but paying none themselves. Their immoralities 
were restrained neither by sense of shame nor fear of 
punishment. 

They framed a law, and secured its enactment, that no 
charge should be received against the church dignitaries 
unless supported by from seven to seventy-two witnesses, 
according to the dignit} T or rank of the accused. 

The city of Antwerp occupies a most distinguished place 
in the great movement toward a purer faith. So early as 
1106 a celebrated preacher attempted to teach a gospel 
free from the impositions of papacy, but was violently op- 
posed. 

In the fourteenth century, the papal power was evidently 
waning. Voices were heard " crying in the wilderness," 
strangel} T prophetic of yet greater voices which would fol- 
low. During the fourteenth century is found another 



Early Sowers of the Seed. 525 

sower of good seed, in Gerard of Groot. Very numerous 
had been the forerunners of the Reformation on this famous 
seaboard. The monks themselves became reprovers of 
each other. They lifted the veil upon the darkness which 
hid some places of the Church. In 1290, Henry of Ghent, 
Archbishop of Tournay, published a book against the 
papacy. Guido, Bishop of Utrecht, refused the red hat 
and scarlet mantle from the Pope. 

In 1434 we find Bishop Rudolph granting the power to 
the Duke of Burgundy to arrest all boisterous and fighting 
priests, and to proscribe all drunkenness throughout his 
province. As we draw nearer the Reformation, the great 
names of Thomas a Kempis and John Wessel appear. 
The}' trimmed their lamp, which sent a ray of brightness 
into the darkness, showing men the way of life. It seemed 
as though the dawn, uncertain yet, in the twilight of the 
Middle Ages, was rising over these lands. 

The nations did not long wait in expectation. The fall 
of an ancient empire startles the earth, and the " sacred 
languages, so long imprisoned within the walls of Constan- 
tinople, are liberated and become again the inheritance of 
the race." Not for a thousand years had so fair a morn- 
ing visited the earth. The dawn was pale and chilly in 
Italy, but in the north of Europe it brought not merely the 
light of pagan literature, but the warmth and brightness 
of Christian truth. 

Charles V. had divided the power of the Reformers. 
He bound himself to extirpate heresy, or to lose his treas- 
ures, destroy his armies, and ruin his kingdom in his at- 
tempt. German}' had withstood his efforts, but the less 
fortunate Netherlands enjoyed no such protection. 

Edict after edict was issued, which did not remain dead- 
letters, as in Germany. The Low Countries were ablaze 
with stakes and swimming in blood. During the last thirty 



526 Young People's History of Protesta?itism. 

years of the reign of Charles, not fewer than 50,000 Protes- 
tants were put to death in the province of the Netherlands. 
The bloody work was carried on, in the absence of Charles 
in Spain, by his sister Margaret, Dowager-Queen of Hun- 
gary. Men and women, whose sole crime was that they 
did not believe in the mass, were hanged, burned, or buried 
alive. This terrible work went on from 1523 to the day 
of the Emperor's abdication. 

The convent of Augustines in Antwerp became obnox- 
ious to Rome, from the number of its inmates who ac- 
cepted the Protestant belief. It was accordingly destro}'ed, 
but the heresy could not be driven away. The innocent 
stone and timber could hardly be held accountable for 
the belief of those who resided within their enclosing 
walls. In 1523, three monks were burned at Brussels 
who had been inmates of a convent at Antwerp, and as 
the fire was depriving them of both life and voice, they 
sang with their latest breath alternate verses of the Te 
Deum Laudamus. 

In 1528, an edict was issued again st_ monks who had 
abandoned their cloisters. The } T ear following, a more 
severe edict was issued, condemning to death, without par- 
don or reprieve, all who had not brought their Lutheran 
books to be burned. 

It is necessary that we pass over the ten years which 
followed, the Anabaptists' opinions and excesses, and the 
sanguinary wars to which they led. On the 2 2d of Sep- 
tember, 1540, all heretics were made incapable of holding 
any property ; all donations and legacies made to any of 
their faith should be null and void. Informers, who were 
themselves heretics, were pardoned. 

After the ascent of Philip to the throne, four years of 
comparative quiet intervened before the beginning of 
those terrible events which make his reign one long, dark 



Duchess of Parma made Regent. ^27 

tragedy. In 1559, Philip established what his father's 
edict nearly twenty years before had threatened : the dis- 
gusting spectacle of savage lands imported into civilized 
Netherlands. The gallows and the stake were in constant 
operation, making havoc in the ranks of the friends of 
freedom of conscience, until its victims numbered, as we 
have said, nearly 50,000. The fires which had been kin- 
dled during the last years of Charles' reign were rekindled ; 
the scaffolds, from which blood had flown less copiously, 
were to run deeper with their crimson dye ; and that which 
made the last years of Charles' reign disgraceful was yet 
to make the reign of Philip a reproach among nations. 

Philip increased ecclesiastical dignities, placed the pub- 
lic offices in the hands of Spaniards, and swept awa}~ all 
courts which the ancient charter of the citizens had pro- 
vided. He established a tribunal that sat in darkness, 
before which no law could be pleaded, no defence by coun- 
sel allowed. The prisoner was made by torture his own 
accuser. No wonder that the citizens felt themselves out- 
raged, and the rights of all classes violated. 

Philip, soon after his accession, returned to Spain, leav- 
ing three councils to assist the Duchess of Parma, whom 
he had established as Regent in the government of the 
provinces. Prominent among her advisers was the Bishop 
of Arras, who was soon to be advanced to the purple, and 
was known in history as Cardinal Granvelle, a man of 
great learning, ready wit, and exquisite tact, which, joined 
to his unscrupulousness of character, enabled him to carry 
\>x intrigue or personal force his own designs, while per- 
mitting others to think he was following their wishes. 

It is necessary here to introduce the figure of a man who. 
more than any other, had influence in shaping the future 
destiny of the Low Countries. He does not present him- 
self so strongly to our attention until after the accession 



j 28 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

of Philip to the throne. It was on this brilliant occasion 
when the tottering form of Charles V., crippled and with- 
ered by premature deca}', entered the gorgeously tapes- 
tried hall, leaning his arm upon the shoulder of William 
of Nassau. At the age of fifty-five, Charles presented the 
appearance of eighty years. As he descended from the 
throne, he gave place to his son. If he appeared prema- 
turely old, Philip appeared never to have been young ; 
puny, meagre, sickly- looking, he seemed to lack all that 
had once made his father princely, both in form and 
character. He seemed to have but one qualhYy, an intense 
passion for extinguishing the Reformation. We have al- 
luded to these two figures again in order to draw the con- 
trast between the two central personages and the 3 r oung 
noble on whose shoulder the Emperor was leaning. Tall, 
well formed, lofty brow, brown eye, and peaked beard ; 
bronzed from service in the camps, he seemed to resemble 
a Spaniard more nearly than a Fleming. Although but 
twent}'-three 3-ears of age, he had won the place of com- 
mander of the armies of Charles on the frontier, and was 
yet destined to become a bulwark of freedom for his 
countn\ The two forms embodied despotism and liberty, 
one on either side of the abdicating Emperor — Philip the 
despot, and William, Prince of Orange, the liberator. 
There was to ensue a contest between these two, which 
was to shake Christendom, and bring down from this pin- 
nacle of power that monarchy which Charles was bequeath- 
ing to his son. There was glory hovering as the perpet- 
ual sun over William ; there was a cloud of shame, deep 
as the shadows which rest upon his tomb in the Escurial, 
over Philip. 

Cardinal Granvelle, however, displeased by his rash 
methods, by his showy equipage, and magnificent manner 
of life, the Regent as well as the Council of the kingdom, 



Orange, Egmont, and Horn. 529 

and it became necessar}- for him to fly from the country. 
The Inquisition, however, remained. Orange, Egmont, 
and Horn again entered the Council, and became leaders 
in the movement. Orange saw that evil was impending, 
and labored for the assembling of the States-General and 
the abolition of the edicts. These two measures would 
have certainly allayed the feeling which was fast ripening 
into revolt. But while Philip existed, and Spain had the 
soldiers, there was no hope of the adoption of these meas- 
ures. 

. The Prince, in the year 1564, pleaded before the Coun- 
cil that fires of religious persecution be extinguished and 
that liberty be granted to everyone, even the humblest of 
the kingdom. Although a Catholic at heart, Orange 
declared he could not approve that princes should have 
dominion over the souls of men. For an hour he spoke 
eloquently in behalf of freedom. It was the eloquence of 
earnestness, of patriotism, and of truth. 

Egmont was sent hy the Council to Madrid to present a 
petition for the meeting of the States-General. He re- 
ceived, on his arrival at Madrid, private audience with the 
King, who professed to defer much to Egmont' s opinion, 
but gave no promise of alleviation of the sufferers. 
There was no doubt but what Egmont was impressed and 
overawed b}* the sublimity of the court to which he had 
been sent as a messenger. He brought back but very 
little, and hardly had he arrived when new instructions 
were received from Philip, demanding the apprehension 
and trial by the Inquisition every heretic in the realm. 

The Prince of Orange wrote to the Regent, begging that 
if this business of burning, beheading, and drowning was 
to go on, some other person might be invested ^vith the 
authority in which he had been clothed, for he would be 
no party to the ruin of his country. The taking away 



53° Young People's History of Protestantism. 

of so much excited the indignation of the inhabitants, 
and it became necessary that heretics, instead of being 
put to death at midday, be executed in prison at mid- 
night. The mode of procedure was to tie the head of the 
prisoner between his knees and then throw him into a 
large tub of water kept in the prison for that purpose. 

We now pass over the institution of the famous com- 
panj- called the " Beggars," the name of which they took 
to be the appellation for all of those who declared for the 
liberty of their country and the right of conscience. 

At a meeting held at Whitsuntide, 1566, at which Lord 
Aldegonde was present, it was resolved that the churches 
be opened and that service be held at Antwerp as it 
already was at Flanders. There had been assemblies in 
the open fields, but the first notable gathering was on the 
14th of June, 1566, in the neighborhood of Ghent. Nearly 
seven thousand persons listened to the sermon. The 
second field-preaching took place on the 23d of July of 
the same year, where they remained two days in camp. 

The movement thus commenced spread like lightning 
throughout Holland, and on the following Sunday, the 
21st of Jul}-, an enormous gathering took place near 
Haarlem. The excitement was intense. Every village 
and town poured out its inhabitants. The stadt-house 
bell was rung at nine o'clock on Saturday evening, and 
the magistrates hastily assembled and were informed that 
the dreadful plague of heresy was at their gates. The 
magistrates thought they would imprison the whole 
multitude within the walls of their town. They were not 
aware that the largest part of the religious conventicle 
was sleeping on the ground. On Sunday morning, when 
the travellers awoke, they found the city gates locked. 
A few got out of the town, and among those who were 
held within the walls was the famous preacher, Peter 



Protestantis7ti Established. 



531 



Gabriel. The clamors of the excited multitude grew into 
threatenings until they were obliged to throw open the 
gates and let the prisoners escape. 

By the middle of August there was no city of note in 
all Holland where the preaching of the Gospel had not 
been established. At Amsterdam they found the greatest 
resistance, while the citizens of Delft, Leyden, and 
Utrecht took active steps for the preaching of the Gospel 
within their borders. 




K0G£i$ 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



THE ICONOCLASTS. 



On the 5th of April, 1566, three hundred noblemen 
had walked on foot to the old palace of Brabant, in Brus- 
sels, and laid the sorrows under which the nation groaned 
before the feet of Margaret, Regent of the Netherlands. 
The answer was the sending of the petition to Philip, 
who alone had the power of granting or withholding the 
request. 

On the 14th of August, a band Of the lowest people, 
women of disreputable character, and idlers from the 
worst parts of the city, made their appearance in Flan- 
ders, calling themselves " Image-Breakers." Wherever 
the} T marched, the crosses, shrines, and saints in stone, fell 
before them. They visited the great cities, pulled down 
the crucifixes, and broke the statues of the Virgin and 
saints. They swept churches and cathedrals clean of all 
their consecrated symbols. Thej 7, overturned the Madon- 
nas, and the altars in some cases were demolished, and 
they soiled the rich vestments of the priests, trampling 
under foot the consecrated bread, and departed only when 
there was nothing more to break or profane. A few 
moments sufficed to complete the desolation of a place. 
They seemed to rise even out of the soil, starting up and 
beginning their ravages at the same instant in provinces 
and cities widely separated. Over four hundred churches 
Were plundered in less than a week. 



Desecration of Antwerp Churches. $jj 

Tidings were speedily carried from one cit}< to another, 
jet the burghers were powerless to withstay them. The 
most terrific burst was in Antwerp. The crowning glory 
of Antwerp was its cathedral. No church in all Northern 
Europe could equal it in the magnificence of its statuary, the 
beauty of its paintings, its carvings in wood, and its ves- 
sels of silver and gold. Five hundred feet its spire shot 
upward into the air. Under its lofty roof, mailed warriors 
slept in their tombs of marble, while the chant of the 
priest, the wail of the organ, and the whispered prayers 
of countless worshippers kept eddying continually around 
their beds of still and never-ending repose. 

In the morning, crowds began to collect before the 
cathedral. The mob were not in a humor to take instruc- 
tion meekly. A quarrel with a huckster excited the crowd 
with the desire to do something rash, which led to the assault 
upon the cathedral. All night long the sounds of hammer 
and axe, the breaking of bars and bolts, the crash of 
images, were heard throughout the city. It spread from 
the cathedral to other churches and chapels of Antwerp, 
and before morning thirty churches had been sacked ; and 
when there remained no more images to be broken, they 
strewed the floor with wafers, filled the chalices with wine 
and drank to the health of the Beggars. Putting on the 
gorgeous vestments of the priests, the}' entered the cellar 
of the cloisters and set the wine flowing freely to every 
one who would drink. A Carmelite monk who had been 
in prison twelve years was set at liberty. Nunneries were 
invaded, and the women driven forth from the convent 
walls. And when there was nothing more to do, the 
crowd retired as quietly as it had quickly arisen. 

The insurrection so thoroughly alarmed the Duchess of 
Parma that the Protestants obtained some concessions 
from her which the} 7 would no doubt have failed to do 



5jy Young People s History of Protesta?itism. 

under other circumstances. The principal promise made 
by her at this time was that the Inquisition should be 
abolished throughout the Netherlands forever, and that 
the Protestants should have free worship wherever their 
worship had previously been established. The past of- 
fences of image-breaking should be condoned. The 
nobles, on their part, promised not to come to the assem- 
blies armed, and that the Protestants, in their sermons, 
should not inveigh against the religion of Rome. 

After this treaty had been signed, the Princes returned 
to their provinces with the endeavor to restore order, in 
which they were in a large measure successful. In 
Antwerp, where Orange was governor, the consecrated 
edifices remained in the possession of the Roman Catho- 
lics, but a convention soon held empowered the Protes- 
tants to erect places of worship within the city for then- 
own use. In a few days from the signing of the treaty, 
the corner-stone of a church was laid in Antwerp. 

When Philip heard what had taken place, he was stupe- 
fied with horror, and then trembled with rage. " It shall 
cost them dear," he cried. " I swear it by the soul of my 
father. For every image which has been mutilated, a 
hundred living men shall die. The affront offered to the 
faith and its saints must be washed out in the blood of 
the guilty inhabitants." 

A letter which soon followed disclosed a plan of Philip 
for raising soldiers, which were to be enlisted exclusively 
from Papists. The Regent was not remiss in executing 
this order, and immediately levied a body of cavalry and 
five bodies of infantry. 

It became evident to Orange and his companions, 
Egmont and Horn , that a great treachery was meditated ; 
not the abolition of the Inquisition, but the rekindling of 
the fires on a larger scale, and the effacement of whatever 



The Rege?it *s Change of Attitude. jjj 

traces of old rights still remained in these unhappy coun- 
tries. In their place should be established a naked des- 
potism. On the ruins of freedom an armed force was }~et 
to set a worse than absolute monarchy. 

The tram-bands of the tyrant were already gathering 
throughout the countiw, and the circle of its priyileges 
and its liberties, hour by hour, was growing less. Orange 
had become an open Lutheran. The Counts Egmont and 
Horn still remained Eomanists, and Egmont became an 
ardent partisan of the goy eminent. Throughout Flanders 
and Artois the public profession of the reformed religion 
was forbidden. 

Fiye-sixths of the inhabitants of Tourna}' were Calvin- 
ists. Ambrose Wille preached to a congregation number- 
ing from fifteen to twenty thousand. Money and materials, 
however, were forthcoming, and permission was given for 
the erection of churches on the spots where the field- 
preaching bad up to this time been held. It was pro- 
posed that the communnYv build these churches ; but the 
Romanists, having been forbidden to burn the Protestants 
for heres}', considered it too much to be taxed for the 
support of heres}'. Materials for the construction of 
the churches, however, were very plentiful, and the sight 
of the altars, broken images, and fragments of things 
which they had worshipped, now being built into the 
walls of a heretical temple stung the Romanists to the 
quick. 

The Regent, however, soon changed her tone of weak- 
ness and petition to that of boldness and authority. She 
wrested all the liberties of the reformed from their grasp, 
forbade their sermons, their singing, praying, and sup- 
pressed the profession of the reformed religion. The 
Popish rites were restored in all their splendor. The year 
1566 was a memorable year to the Netherlands. It was 



536 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

the last year of peace which was to be enjoyed in that 
countrj- for more than a generation. 

Valenciennes refused to admit the soldiers of Margaret, 
and her general immediately declared it in a state of siege. 
The peasants, armed with pitchforks, picks, and rusty 
muskets, assembled to the rescue, in the number of three 
thousand. The}' were almost exterminated by the trained 
troops of Margaret. Another company met a similar 
fate. The besieged, however, made vigorous sallies, and 
kept the enemy at bay. The neighboring villages were 
pillaged, and their inhabitants slaughtered in cold blood, 
stripped naked in the dead of winter or roasted alive to 
amuse the brutal soldiers. Mothers and daughters were 
sold at public auction. 

The siege began on the morning of Palm Sunday. The 
city surrendered on condition that no sack should take 
place, and their lives spared. The promise was given 
only to be broken. When the Spanish leader had entered, 
he closed the gates behind him, arrested the wealthy citi- 
zens, hanged some hundreds, and sent others to the stake. 
The soldiers were quartered on the inhabitants. They 
murdered and robbed as they had a mind. The principal 
members of Protestant congregations were put to death, 
and the two Protestant preachers were sentenced to be 
hanged. When, upon the scaffold, they attempted to speak 
to the people, their discourse was rudely stopped by being 
thrown from the ladder, and their words ended with their 
life. 

The Prince of Orange fully understood the purposes of 
Philip. He saw into the vety heart and soul of the dis- 
sembling monarch. He had studied him as a statesman 
and served him m his public polic3 r and m his daily life. 
There were secret pages m which Philip had put on record 
the projects that he was revolving. These were opened 



A u Cloud of Woes." jj/ 

and read by the spies which William had placed around 
him, until he had come to the conclusion that Philip was 
determined to drag the leading nobles to the scaffold, 
hang, burn, or bury alive every Protestant in the Low 
Countries. 

Accordingly, he invited Counts Egmont, Horn, and 
Louis to an interview, in order that measures might be 
taken to meet the storm when it should burst out. Un- 
happily, the sight of these men was not so clear as that 
of William, and they refused to believe that danger was 
so imminent. Egmont, still enthralled by the spell of the 
court, was not delivered from it until he reached the foot 
of the scaffold. He was not willing to take part in any 
measure offensive to the King, and thought such to be 
imprudent and undutiful. It was necessary for these men 
to act together in order to make head against Philip. 
Knowing that it was useless to expect this, the Prince of 
Orange resigned all his offices and retired to his ancestral 
estate of Nassau, in German}'. He warned Count Egmont 
of the fate that awaited him should he remain in Flanders. 
The warning was not heeded, and the two friends parted 
to meet no more. 

A cloud of woes descended upon the country. The 
disciples of the Reformation fled from Amsterdam, and a 
garrison entered it. The last sermons were preached in 
the open air. A deep silence fell upon the land. The 
gallowses were filled with carcasses. All the Protestant 
churches in course of erection were demolished, and their 
timbers used for gallowses on which to hang the builders. 

Philip now sent a powerful army under the Duke of 
Alva. Sailing from Carthagena, Ma}' 10, 1567, and 
landing in the north of Italy with 10,000 picked soldiers, 
gathered from the Italian provinces, he set out to avenge 
the insulted majesty of Rome and Spain, b} r drowning the 



fj8 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Netherlands in the blood of its reformers. It was a holy 
war : more holy than that waged against Jew or Saracen. 
It promised greater riches, for the wealth of the world 
was treasured up in the cities of the Netherlands. Force 
their gates and a stream of gold would fill the coffers of 
Spain. 

No fitter instrument could be found throughout all 
Europe than Alva. A daring and able soldier who had 
reached sixtj' 3-ears, most of which had been spent on the 
field and amidst the armies of Charles V., he had warred 
against Turk and Lutheran. He was cold, selfish, and 
vindictive ; haughty and overbearing, he could not tol- 
erate a rival ; cruel by nature, }'et more cruel by bigotiy. 
As was the general, so the soldiers. Their courage had 
been hardened and their skill perfected in various climes. 
They were hauglnVy, stern, and cruel be} T ond the ordinary 
measures of soldiers of that day. 

It was the middle of August when the Spaniards ar- 
rived at the frontier of the Low Countries. Their entrance 
was unopposed, for the gates were open. Those who 
would have resisted their approach were in their graves. 
Egmont rode by his side as he entered Brussels to take 
up his residence there, while his soldiers were distributed 
between the chief cities. 

Alva opened his career of tyranny and blood without 
delay. Egmont and Horn were immediately arrested in 
the name of the King. In fourteen days they were incar- 
cerated b}* the Council of Ghent. The secretary of Eg- 
mont and a wealthy burgomaster soon followed the counts 
to prison. 

Terror and dismay were spread over the whole country 
by the news of these arrests. Probably 100,000 people 
had left the Low Countries on the approach of Alva ; and 
20,000 more were startled, and prepared to forsake their 



The "Council of Blood." jjg 

native land. From Bruges and Ghent the weavers carried 
their art of cloth-making, and from Antwerp that of the 
manufacture of silk, to England. Da}- after day disclosed 
a new gulf opening to the Netherlands. Alva imme- 
diately erected a new tribunal, which is known in history 
as the "Council of Blood." Its erection meant the over- 
throw of every other institution, as it assumed absolute 
jurisdiction in all matters pertaining to civil and religious 
authority. Its mission was to search out treason and de- 
stroy heretics. It drew up a code defining what treason 
was and the punishment which would follow. It covered 
every possible offence against the Church, against the In- 
quisition, and against the King. It ended by declaring all 
of the inhabitants of the Low Countries guilty of treason, 
having incurred the penalty of death. This council con- 
sisted of twelve persons, of which the majority were 
Spaniards, the Duke of Alva himself being the president. 
"With his soldiers distributed over the country, the Council 
of Blood ready to do his bidding, there remained now 
nothing but imprisonment, racking, and execution, of all 
ages, sexes, and conditions of people. The gallows, 
wheels, stakes, and trees of the highway were loaded with 
carcasses or limbs of those who had been hanged, beheaded, 
or roasted, until the whole country became a common 
grave or habitation of the dead. The sound of the bloody 
passing-bell was never silent. It rung dismal peals 
throughout the whole realm. The council-ichamber resem- 
bled nothing so much as the lair of wild beasts, with its 
precincts covered with the limbs of their victims. All the 
avenues of approach leading to it were soaked with gore, 
and strewed with mangled carcasses of men. women, and 
children. 

Shrovetide of 1568 was near. It was a night on which 
the inhabitants were wont to rejoice, sing songs, and in- 



54.0 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

dulge in harmless merriment. Alva resolved that the 
country should resound with the wails of victims. At 
midnight his myrmidons burst open the doors of those 
suspected, dragged them from their beds, and hauled 
them to prison. Alva was disappointed that only 500 
were thus enclosed in his net. They were ordered to the 
scaffold all in one day. 

On the 16th of February, 1568, the Council pronounced 
their decision upon the decree forwarded to Philip, to the 
purport that with the exception of a select list of names, 
which had been handed to them, all of the inhabitants 
of the Netherlands were heretics, and so had been guilty 
of the crime of high treason. This sentence Philip con- 
firmed ten days later by a nyval proclamation, in which he 
commanded the immediate execution of the decree, thus 
passing sentence of death upon the whole nation. "Since 
the beginning of the world," says the historian, "men 
have not seen or heard an}' parallel to this horrible 
sentence." 



CHAPTER XXXY. 

THE NETHERLANDS WAR. 

It now became the great ambition of Philip and Alva 
to ensnare William of Orange, and their mortification 
when the}' found he had escaped them was extreme. 
Whichever wa}- they turned, his presence or his power 
rose before them as a perpetual menace. He was the 
sagacious, dauntless friend of liberty, and while he lived 
they felt that any day their prey might be wrested from 
them, and the Netherlands united under the rule of this 
sagacious prince. His eldest son, however, a lad of 
thirteen, was seized as a hostage and carried to Spain. 
He stood alone as the one man to whom the inhabitants 
of the Low Countries, amidst their ever-accumulating 
misery and despair, could look with hope of deliverance. 
The eyes of the exiles abroad were turned toward him. 
He was earnestly importuned by refugees in England, 
Germany, Cleves, and in other parts, to unfurl the 
standard and strike for his countiy's liberation from the 
yoke of Spain. 

William could, however, see no hope of such an under- 
taking unless Spain were involved in a war with some 
nation less unhappy than the Netherlands. But the 
sorrows and miseries which accumulated finally drove 
him to gird himself in obedience to the cry, and attempt 
the liberation of the groaning nation. 

He must first raise funds and soldiers to cariw on 
the war. The cities of Antwerp, Haarlem, Amsterdam, 
and others contributed one hundred thousand florins. 



54 2 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Refugees in England and elsewhere subscribed largely. 
The brothers of William gave much, and the Prince him- 
self completed the amount b}' the sale of his plate, furni- 
ture, tapestiy, and jewels, which increased the amount 
to two hundred thousand florins. So were the funds 
provided. 

The German Princes gave sums of money, and winked 
at his levying recruits within their territories. He felt 
sure that Elizabeth, the Protestant Queen of England, 
would help him. Strange as it ma}' seem, the standard 
of William was unfurled in the name of the King, in 
order that his interests might be served in saving the 
land from utter desolation, the inhabitants from slaveiy, 
the ancient charter from extinction, and religion from 
utter overthrow. Soldiers gathered from Germany, 
France, and the duchy of Cleves. The liberation arm}' 
arranged to enter the Netherlands from four points. 
The first battle issued in a victory in favor of William. 
It was a great blow to Alva. His rage was unbounded. 
He ordered the immediate execution of all the noblemen 
who had been condemned by the Council of Blood, who 
were now held for treason. Some of these were Roman 
Catholics, and some of the reformed faith. Their bodies 
were left to moulder in the fields and their heads set upon 
stakes. 

Now came the last hours of Egmont and Horn. Nine 
months they had lam prisoners in the Castle of Ghent. 
In entire loyalty to the King, they had not for a moment 
apprehended the fatal issue, but it had from the first been 
determined otherwise. The scaffold was erected in the 
square of Brussels, covered with black cloth. Egmont 
ascended the scaffold first ; Horn followed. The heads 
of the two counts were placed upon poles between burn- 
ing torches during the remainder of the day. 



The Duke of Alva's Regime. 543 

At the close of this dismal tragedy, Alva set out to 
punish the victorious army. The next execution took 
place September 25 of the same jxar ; the widow of a 
wine-merchant was beheaded for having attended a con- 
venticle. The real reason was that her husband died 
in debt to one of the judges, who took this way of pay- 
ing it. Many were hanged in Haarlem ; no compassion 
was shown any. In Brabant and Flanders the persecution 
was without mercy. Men were hanged or thrown bound 
upon a pile of burning fagots. Every day the gallows 
found new victims, and the streets streamed with blood. 

A more dreadful mode of torture now came into favor. 
In place of the gag, two small pieces of metal were 
screwed upon the tongue, and the tip was seared with a 
red-hot iron. Instant swelling ensued, and the tongue 
could not be drawn out of its enclosure. From this hor- 
rible work Alva was called by the approach of William 
of Orange. Advancing from Germany, the Prince had 
crossed the Rhine, near Cologne, with an army of horse 
and foot not exceeding twenty thousand. He found it 
impossible to enter the countiw unmolested, as Alva, de- 
clining battle, followed him whichever wa}* he turned, 
making it impossible to enter an} T fortified town, or to 
find provisions in the open country for his army. 

The night of horrors which had descended upon the 
Low Countries deepened into an almost impenetrable 
darkness. New and severer edicts came constantly from 
Spain. Crowds of innocent men were gathered for the 
gallows and the stake, and the flowing tide from that 
doomed shore constantly rolled on. It is said that a 
hundred thousand homes were left empty. Should wives 
venture to correspond with their exiled husbands, they 
were hurried to the stake. The 3-ouths were forbidden to 
go abroad to learn a trade, or study at an}' university 



544 You fig People's History of Protestantism. 

save that of Rome. The trials were conducted with 
shocking carelessness in the Council of Blood. Men were 
sent off in crowds to the gallows, man} T of whom received 
no trial whatever. Their names were inserted on the 
death-list on the simple accusation of any devout Catholic. 
It is said that one John Hassels, of the Council of Blood, 
was accustomed to sleep on the bench through the exami- 
nation of the prisoner, and, when awakened to give his 
vote, would exclaim, " To the gallows ! to the gallows ! " 

Alva had boasted that he would make a stream of blood 
three feet in depth flow from the Netherlands to Spain. 
He bent all his energies to make good his word. Such is 
the melancholy record of the year 1568, and the gloom of 
this departing was deeper than its first days. 

In 1569 the sword of persecution was sharpened still 
further. When the Host was carried through the street, 
or the holy oil for the Extreme Unction, notice was to be 
taken of the behavior, looks, and words, of every person, 
and if any sign of irreverence was witnessed the offender 
should be punished by death. 

It now became necessar}' to fill the streets and houses 
with spies, who received for their odious work seven 
pennies for each person arrested. The crowd of martyrs 
utterly defies enumeration. The death of all was the 
same either b} T the stake or hy the gallows. It is not 
necessaiy for us to go into the enumeration of those 
whose names are known to history. It would extend our 
volume be} T ond the limits assigned to it. It was during 
the second campaign of William of Orange, who had been 
made virtually Governor of Holland, Zealand, and Fries- 
land, or King if 3-ou please, b}^ the prayers and suffrages 
of the entire people. It was during his second campaign 
in behalf of the freedom of the Netherlands, that the 
Massacre of Saint Bartholomew took place in Paris, an 



War and Famine. 



545 



account of which we have already given. There was but 
little hope in the hearts of men in those days, yet, by the 
undaunted courage of one man in keeping alive the 
patriotic flame, the Netherlands still fought on for liberty, 
for freedom of worship, and for the ancient charters of 
their rights. All the horrors of war, and the terrors 
of famine as well, now gathered around the devoted 
cities who held out against the besieging forces of the 
Spaniards. One of the most tragic incidents of the his- 
tory was the siege and defence of Haarlem. Vainly had 
the}^ appealed to Elizabeth, Queen of England ; but she, 
fearing to break with Philip, declared herself unable to 
render them assistance. The last hope of Haarlem was 
gone. Reduced by famine, until ordinary food was not 
to be found within the walls, they subsisted on the loath- 
some and abominable substitutes, devouring horses, dogs, 
cats, mice, and all kinds of vermin. They boiled the 
hides of animals, and ate them, and lived upon nettles 
and rank grass when these failed. The men of Haarlem 
realized that they were doomed to destruction. Offering 
to surrender on condition that the town should be exempt 
from pillage, they were told that their surrender must be 
unconditional. In their despair, the fighting men resolved 
to cut their way through the Spanish camp, thinking that 
the enenry would respect women and children, such as 
would be found in the woe-stricken city. They next 
resolved to form a hollow square, and, placing their wives 
and children in the centre, march out to conquer or to 
die. The Spaniards, however, agreed to capitulate on the 
payment of two hundred thousand guilders, and the sur- 
render of fifty-seven persons as prisoners of war. On 
the 12th of July the city accepted the proposed terms. 

The citizens of Haarlem deposited their arms in the 
town-house. The men were shut up in the monastery, 



j-^6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

and the women in the cathedral. With the Spaniards, the 
city was little better than a heap of ruins. The fifty- 
seven persons excepted from the amnesty were executed. 
Nine hundred citizens were hanged as if they had been 
malefactors. The sick were carried out into the court- 
yard and slain. Several hundreds of French, English, 
and Scotch soldiers were butchered. Five executioners 
with their assistants w T ere kept in constant employment 
for days, and at last, tired of despatching them one by 
one, the}' took three hundred prisoners, tied them back to 
back, in couples, and threw them into the lake. The 
number put to death in cold blood was about twenty- 
three hundred, in addition to those who perished in the 
siege. 

But enough has been given as an example of the bar- 
barities which were exercised by the Spanish captors of 
the citizens of the Low Countries. We pass over the 
protracted wars, the campaign of William, the defence of 
Alkmaar, the siege of Leyden, mutiny of Spanish troops, 
and the terrors of the sacking of Antwerp, where all the 
horrors of war and bigotry seem to have concentrated 
themselves in one wild onslaught of rapine and blood 
and death. The crimes that accompanied these were so 
foul and infamous, of so revolting a character, that by 
their side murder grows pale. It has been st}~led in 
history as the Antwerp Fury. Eight thousand citizens 
were slain in three days, and Antwerp never recovered 
the prosperity which it had enjoyed before the bloody 
hands of the Spaniards were laid upon it. 

William of Orange, while maintaining the little territory 
over which he now reigned, occupied a position more than 
King. He was really the "Father of his Country." It 
was with amazement that the powers of Europe watched 
the gigantic struggle maintained by a handful of men, on 



Murder of Ora?ige. 547 

this half-submerged territory, against the greatest mon- 
arch of the day. Although the issues awakened bitter 
jealousies, still the heroism challenged their admiration. 
It became not merelj* a Dutch quarrel, not a question 
touching the liberty of thought on this sand-bank of the 
North Sea, but a world-wide cause. One in which, 
whether they attempted it or not, the nations of the world 
held a deep interest. Not alone the nations that then 
were, but those that should exist throughout all coming 
time. 

In England, crowds of statesmen, divines, and private 
Christians followed the banners of Orange with their 
hopes and prayers. But there was no adequate channel 
for their sympathies, and Elizabeth, though secretly 
friendly to William, was obliged to shape her conduct so 
as to balance the complicated interests. The great heart 
of Germany had already waxed cold toward the reformed 
faith. Many of her princes had accepted the issues of 
Protestantism onry to enlarge their allowances and increase 
their revenues. Added to this, the bitter jealousies divi- 
ding the Lutherans gave little promise of any lively 
interest in the struggle of Holland. 

With England irresolute, France treacherous, and Ger- 
man}* cold, it became necessaiy for the Netherlands to 
work out for themselves the cause of Protestant liberty. 
The great battles which were fought by the conflicting 
armies were less in importance than those fought in the 
Council chamber. The pacification of Ghent is one of 
these. If these enlarged the territory which was locked 
in struggle with Spain, it unfortunately diminished its 
power. 

On Tuesday, July 10, 1584, the Netherlands lost their 
champion and protector, by the murder of William of 
Orange. From this date the varying fortunes of the Low 



548 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Countries ebbed and flowed in tides of blood. The church 
grew strong even under the armed struggle. The action 
of the S} T nod of Dent, which issued its famous declaration 
of toleration in 1578, had a great influence in solidifying 
public thought, theological opinion, and in softening the 
asperities of religious bigotry. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

PROTESTANTISM IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES. 

Following the wars of the Hussites, there came to 
Poland and Bohemia what has been termed the " Catholic 
Restoration " ; a scheme cunningly devised and persever- 
ingh* executed by the Jesuits, who had now perfected 
their organization. Zealously aided by the arms of the 
Popish powers, it scourged German}' with the desolating 
war of thirty years, trampling out flourishing Protestant 
churches in the east of Europe, and nearly succeeded in 
rehabilitating Rome in her ancient dominion over all 
Christendom. 

Poland, Bohemia, Hungan, and parts of Austria, hav- 
ing felt the power of Protestantism under the movement 
of Huss and Jerome, soon yielded to the force of circum- 
stances, and Protestantism was apparently overthrown 
throughout their territor}\ Sweden, however, sent forth 
a champion, rolled back the tide of Popish success, re- 
stored the balance between the two churches, and wrought 
so powerfully that much of her work has remained until 
the present hour. 

It is not our purpose here to discuss the Reformation 
as it swept through these nations, or to enter into detail 
as to the wavering flood and ebb of religious feeling as 
one organization and then another seemed to gain and 
hold for a time the mastery. Martyrdom succeeded mar- 
t}Tdom, until throughout Bohemia, Austria, and Poland 
Protestantism was virtually overthrown. Much of the 
history of Bohemia was re-enacted on the plains of 



55° Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Hungary and throughout Trans} T lvania. Did space per- 
mit, it would be an extremely interesting story to recount 
in detail the growth and wonderful vitality of Protestant- 
ism here during a somewhat extended period. 

The first grand phase of Protestantism in Germany 
was the illumination from the open Bible, unlocked by 
the recover}* of the Hebrew and Greek languages. 
Light streamed forth, and the darkness which had 
shrouded the world for a thousand years began to dis- 
perse. This was the beginning of the overturning and 
the restoring. 

The second grand phase of Protestantism in Germany 
has been termed that of Confession and Martyrdom. 
During this period, societies and states founded them- 
selves upon the fundamental principles of Protestantism ; 
or, in other words, simple submission to the word of 
God. They covered Christendom with a new and higher 
life, both individual and national. 

Protestantism opens its second century with its third 
grand phase, which is war. The old begins to under- 
stand that the new will establish itself only upon its 
ruins. Accordingly, it girds the sword for fight. The 
battlefield is all Germany, and into the arena descend 
men of all nations, not only of Europe, but from parts of 
Asia. The Catholic League, as it is termed, was formed, 
with Maximilian of Bavaria at its head. It needed only 
the Jesuits to find, by intrigue, a work for the army which 
the Duke held in readiness to strike. The slightest spark 
would kindle the flame. The spark fell. The Royal 
Letter granted by Rudolph II., which was really the 
Magna Charta of the Bohemian. Protestants, began to be 
encroached upon. The privileges which that charter 
conceded to Protestants were denied, the Jesuits assert- 
ing that this edict of toleration was of no value. These 



The Thirty Years' War. 551 

words gave great uneasiness, which was succeeded by 
alarm, and alarm was speedily converted into indignation ; 
indignation was followed by a disposition to resort to 
arms, when the courts attempted to overturn the Royal 
Letter and confiscate all the rights of Protestants. 

We find here the opening of the great war known as 
the Peasants' or the Thirt\- Years' War of German}'. This 
war divides itself into three grand periods ; the first being 
from 1618 to 1630. This was the era of the imperial 
victories. By the aid of Wallenstein, Ferdinand II. 
brought back success to his standards. At the end of 
this period, the popish power had spread itself, like a 
mighty flood, over the whole of Germany to the North 
Sea. But during the second period, extending from 
1630 to 1634, the opposing tide of Protestantism contin- 
ues to flow with irresistible power from north to south, 
until it has overspread two-thirds of the Fatherland. The 
third and closing period is from 1634 to 1648. During 
this time victory and defeat oscillated from side to side, 
shifting from one part of the field to another. The 
Swedes came down in a mighty wave, which rolled on 
unchecked until it reached the middle of Gerrnairy. The 
French, greedy of booty, spread themselves along the 
Rhine, hunger and pestilence traversing in their wake the 
wasted land. The fanatical Ferdinand II. had gone to 
his grave. His more tolerant successor, Ferdinand III., 
found himself obliged to continue the terrible struggle, 
which went on for some time longer. Nature itself cried 
for a cessation of the awful conflict. Cities, towns, and 
villages were in flames or ashes. The land was empty of 
men, the highroads without passengers, the fields were 
untilled, reeds waved in the market-places. And when 
the great struggle was ended, the countries which had 
been its seat were utterly ruined — German}' had lost 
three-fourths of her population. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

ENGLAND. 

We turn from this sad picture of war to England. The 
time of darkness for the island has fulfilled its period. 
The dawn seems to be ushered in by the person and the 
ministry of Wycliffe. The great tide of evil begins to 
roll backward. From the time of the English reformer 
we are able to trace two great currents in Christendom ; 
the one steadily bearing down into ruin the empire of 
Roman superstition and bondage ; the other lifting 
higher and higher the kingdom of truth and liberty. 
And these streams have never intermitted their flow 
from that da}' until now. First comes the translation of 
the Bible into the vulgar tongue. This was followed by 
the fall of Constantinople and the scattering of the seeds 
of knowledge over the West. It is a great era, marked by 
the invention of the art of printing and other discoveries, 
which aided the awakening of the human mind. Henr}^ 
VIII. ascended the throne in 1509. The beginning of his 
reign was contemporaneous with the birth of Calvin, of 
Knox, and of others who were destined, like himself, to 
play an important part upon the stage of history. It 
was long since any English king had mounted the throne 
with a prospect of so peaceful and glorious a reign as the 
young prince who grasped the sceptre. He united in 
his person the rival claims of the houses of York and 
Lancaster. Born with a taste for letters, he delighted in 
the society of scholars, and prodigally lavished, in his 



William Tyndale. SS3 

patronage of literature and those entertainments for which 
he had a fondness, vast treasures, which the avarice of 
his father had accumulated. France and Spain both paid 
court to him, and each strove to have him for his ally. 

Erasmus, the famous scholar of Holland, and More, 
the nearly as famous scholar of England, belonged to the 
galaxy of learned men who constituted the English 
Reformation. Both contributed to the literary movement 
which helped to fill the skies of England with light. 
Erasmus rendered to the Reformation a service worthy of 
eternal remembrance. He opened to the learned men of 
Europe the portals of divine revelation by his editions 
of the Greek New Testament, accompanied by translations 
in Latin. Its publication, in 1516, formed the great epoch 
in the movement. An intimate friend of Colet, he learned 
from him to moderate his great admiration for the School- 
man Aquinas. Erasmus and More met for the first time 
at the table of the Lord Mayor of London. More was 
the Erasmus of England. Such were the men and the 
agencies now at work. They were not the Reformation, 
but they prepared the country for that great and much 
needed change. Erasmus laid his New Testament at the 
feet of England. 

There was at the University of Oxford a student from 
the valle3 T of the Severn, descended from an ancient 
family, William T}-ndale by name. Into the hands of 
this young student fell a copy of the New Testament of 
Erasmus. Fascinated by the elegance of its style and the 
sublimity of its teachings, he became aware of some mar- 
vellous power which he found in no other book he had 
ever studied. Others had touched his intellect ; this 
regenerated his heart. The youth began to give public 
lectures on the book. But this was more than Oxford 
could bear. The young Tyndale quit the banks of the 



554 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Isis, and joined a friend of his at Cambridge, whose name 
was Bilney. These two were joined by a third young 
man, of blameless life and elevated character, the son of 
an innkeeper at Sevenoaks, in Kent, John Fryth by name. 
From the yoke of the papacy these three students were 
perfect^ emancipated. No infallible church had inter- 
preted to them the Book. 

Having completed his studies, Tyndale came back to 
Gloucestershire, and became a tutor at Sudbury Hall. Daily 
at the table of his patron he met the clergy of the neigh- 
borhood, and in conversations that ensued he often heard 
the name of Luther ; and from the man the transition was 
easy to his opinions. The disputes often grew warm. 
The cry of heresy was raised against the tutor. Secret 
accusation was laid against him before the bishop's chan- 
cellor ; but Tyndale defended himself so admirably that 
he escaped out of the hands of his enemies. He then 
began to explain the Scriptures on Sundays, extended his 
labors to the neighboring villages, scattering the seed, to 
which, as yet, the people had no access in their mother- 
tongue, or in a printed form. Wherever he sowed, the 
priests labored to destroy. He now conceived the idea 
of translating and printing the Scriptures into the tongue 
of England. Bidding the family of Sir John Welch, with 
whom he had been so long, a hasty farewell, he repaired 
to London. To him the doors of the bishop's palace were 
closed ; but a rich London merchant espoused his cause, 
receiving him into his family. Tyndale now began to 
preach in public, studying night and clay in order that he 
might finish his translation. He summoned his old friend 
Fryth to his aid, and, the two working together, chapter 
after chapter of the New Testament passed from the 
Greek into the tongue of England. The Inquisition made 
its appearance in London, and the students were threat* 



Tyndale' s " Testament? SSS 

ened with fire. Stepping on board a vessel in the Thames, 
Tyndale sailed for Germany. 

The car of the Reformation was advancing, but at this 
moment an unexpected champion stepped into the arena 
to do battle with Luther. This was no less a personage 
than the King of England. His zeal for the Roman tradi- 
tions transported him with fury against the man who was 
uprooting them ; in all of which he was aided by Wolse} T . 

Arriving at Hamburg, Tyndale unpacked the manu- 
script sheets which he had begun in the valley of the 
Severn, and resumed on the banks of the Elbe the prose- 
cution of his great design. The Gospels of Matthew and 
Mark were translated and printed at Hamburg. In 1524 
were sent to London the first fruits of his great task. 
T} T ndale now visited Luther in Wittenberg ; and on his 
return he began the printing of an edition of three thou- 
sand copies of his English New Testament. Great was 
his jo}' as sheet after sheet passed through the press. 
The tenth sheet was upon the press when the printer, 
hurrying to him, informed him that the Senate had ordered 
the printing of the work to be stopped. Tyndale was 
stunned. Must the labor of years be lost ? His resolution 
was taken on the spot. He packed up the printed sheets, 
stepped into a boat on the Rhine, and ascended the 
river. After some da} 7 s Tyndale arrived at Worms, the 
town which four years before Luther had invested with a 
halo of historical glory. Here he at once resumed the 
printing, completing two editions at the end of 1525, 
sending fifteen hundred copies to England. 

It is not necessary that we here speak of the results 
which followed its reception there. Latimer was preach- 
ing bold and eloquent sermons from a metropolitan 
pulpit, calling upon every one, and emphasizing their 
duty of reading the word of God in the mother- tongue. 



jj6 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

Larger congregations gathered around Latimer's pulpit 
every day. A desire was fast being awakened throughout 
the nation for copies of the Scriptures ; and the wish was 
about to be gratified. Under the decks of many vessels, 
as they ascended the Thames, were stored copies of the 
sacred book. The}* were unloaded without molestation ; 
and the merchants to whom they were consigned con- 
ve}'ed their precious treasures to their points of distribu- 
tion. The Cardinal and the Bishop of London soon 
learned that the English New Testament had entered 
there. Search was made throughout all the cit}~ for those 
who were making sale of the heretical book. Orders 
were given to burn all that could be found. All the 
friends of the Gospel at Oxford were apprehended and 
thrown into prison. The heresy must be stamped out. 
New dungeons were provided for the men who were bold 
enough to advocate its being read or possessed b} T the 
common people. The University of Cambridge was first 
to accept the truth and receive the light ; but Oxford was 
the first to be glorified by martyrdom. Edition after edi- 
tion of Tyndale's Bible, printed in Holland, was sent 
across the sea for distribution in England. These were 
all sold, and followed by other editions, which found an 
equally read}' market. The clergy were dismayed ; the 
deluge of heres}', as the} T termed it, had broken in upon 
the land. 

The first to suffer the wrath of fire was Thomas Bilney, 
of whom we have before spoken. From the pit of the 
Lollards prison he passed from the ceremony of degrada- 
tion — gone through with great formality — to the stake, 
which was planted in a low, circular hollow just outside 
the city ; from which point went out the soul of the first 
Evangelist in England in Reformation days. 

Next after Bilne} T was Richard Bayfield. Treated with 



The Reign of Mary. jjy 

the greatest cruelty, he was taken, the night before his exe- 
cution, to be degraded in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul. 
At the close of the ceremonies, the Bishop of London 
struck him upon the breast with his crosier so heavily that 
he swooned and rolled down the steps of the choir. He 
was carried to the stake at Smithfield, where he suffered 
the martyrdom of fire. 

A volume is required to recount the martyrdoms of this 
period. Fox's " Book of Martyrs " is the only work deal- 
ing with this subject completely, and recounting the 
terrors of these blood}' years. After the accession of 
Mar} T to the throne, English Protestantism was purified by 
fire. It gained glory and might from suffering. Stakes 
were planted all over England, until the nation became 
aroused, and Ridley and Latimer lighted a candle in Eng- 
land the light of which the waning centuries have in no 
sense diminished. 

Between the 4th of February, 1555, and the 15th of 
November, 1558, not fewer than two hundred and eighty- 
eight persons were burned alive at the stake. Besides 
these, numbers perished by imprisonment, by torture, and 
by famine. Mary did all this with the approval and sanc- 
tion of her conscience. And, when death came, her regret 
was not for the blood which she had shed, but because 
she had not done her work more thoroughly. 

With the accession of Elizabeth, Protestantism enjoyed 
a release. There is no gloomier year in the history of 
England than the last one of Mary's reign. There, per- 
haps, is no brighter year than the first of the reign of 
Elizabeth. Prisons were opened ; men whom Mary had 
left to be burned were released ; and the fires which were 
blazing all over England went out. The yoke of the 
tyrant and the bigot was wrested from the nation's neck. 
England arose from the dust, and, rekindling the lamp of 



jjfS Young People's History of Protestantism. 

truth, started on a career of political freedom and com- 
mercial prosperit} T , in which, with few exceptional periods, 
there has been no pause from that da} T to this. 

We pass over the period of the Puritans of England ; 
and, in closing, allude briefly to the darkness and the day- 
break of Scotland. 




JOHN KNOX S STUDY. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SCOTLAND. 

The land of Wallace and of Bruce so often presents 
itself to the fanc}~ of the modern observer with only the 
pastoral and chivalrous character of its history, with 
which the geniuses of a Burns, a Scott, and Christopher 
North have surrounded her people, that her later and her 
happier days hide from view much of the terror and 
agon} T of her earlier histor}-. She had her days of wild 
anarchy, gross ignorance, moral degradation, and compar- 
ative barbarism. The race who had fought at Bannock- 
burn and Flodden Field were brave and chivalrous ; but 
the schools, the pulpits and the press, the libraries and 
higher institutions of learning, were not as yet in their 
possession. 

The French have a saying that revolutions are not 
made with rose-water. If it be true of the experience of 
the French, it is doubly true of the experience of one 
great man who led to a successful and glorious result the 
mightiest revolution that ever shook the heather-covered 
hills of Scotland. There are many who dwell with more 
of lamentation or bitter denunciation on the rugged zeal 
of John Knox, the great reformer of Scotland, than is 
either fitting or wise. The}' seem to forget, in piping times 
of peace, the strife, the grinding collision between great 
interests, the deadly antagonisms in which mere gentleness 
would be often the sheerest inefficiency. It requires some- 
thing of the character of Elijah in one w T ho should become 



562 Young People's History of Protestcmtism. 

the fitting reformer of a degenerate time and an apostate 
church. There was an external rudeness of bearing and 
surrounding in John Knox, the better adapted to startle 
a land out of its perilous slumber. And if in this he 
roused the conscience of a Herod or bred the murderous 
antagonism of a Herodias, the results of the turmoil 
could only prove in the end a purification of the body 
politic, and possibly the regeneration of those to whom he 
appeared as a raging whirlwind. Knox was flung into a 
very maelstrom, and obliged to combat in the mad whirl- 
ing with various and furious elements. The violences so 
much deprecated were already in the land. The}' were 
earlier, fresher, and more enduring with the enemies of 
the truth than with its advocates and its evangelists. 

It was in the earl}' da}~s of Knox's career that four 
Scotchmen were hung at Perth for eating goose on Friday, 
and a }'oung woman with her child at her breast was 
drowned because she refused to invoke the Virgin Mary as 
her helper. Wishart, the scholarly, eloquent, and irre- 
proachable friend of Knox, was burned by Cardinal Bea- 
toun ; and in a later period Walter Milne, at the age of 
eighty-two, was committed to the flame, expressing the hope 
that he should be the last to suffer death for the cause. 
It seems hardly equitable measure to reserve all the s}'m- 
pathy for the ancient and picturesque church that rejoiced 
in such hangings, drownings, and burnings, and deplore 
the firmness and harshness that against such odds and 
confronting such inhumanities uplifted its voice for the 
truth as Christ gave it. 

Born in the year 1505, it was not until he reached the 
age of thirty-seven that Knox fully identified himself with 
the cause of the Reformation. Yet, in the brief space of 
thirty years that followed, that dauntless, heroic, and incor- 
ruptible man accomplished for his age and his country a 



Mary Queen of Scots. jfij 

greater work than an}' king or royal potentate had accom- 
plished for an}* nation since time began. I suppose that 
the character of Knox has been judged more severely 
because his contemporary, Mary Queen of Scots, for some 
years his sovereign, and often his antagonist, has be- 
witched the fancy and inspired the maudlin sympathy of 
people, which has cast a spell over the judgment of many 
as to the era, its responsibilities, and its terrors. Knox 
not a few times held the pass of a Christian Thermopylae 
with greater bravery and more signal fortitude than did 
Leonidas and his Spartan band. 

Mary Queen of Scots, however partially she may be 
treated by the historian, was hardly what could be called 
angelic, pure, or even Christian. Brought up under the 
most refined and dissolute court of European nations, 
under the controlling spirit of Catherine de Medici, and an 
influence which converted truth into falsehood, secular 
policy into treachery, religious belief into superstitious 
bigotry ; possessed of a character bewitchingly evil ; early 
a bride, often a widow ; initiated into the craft of state 
and the delusions of church, exemplified only by the 
Borgias and the Machiavels ; — it is only reasonable to sup- 
pose that a man of the sterling integrity of John Knox 
would unmask the fascination and rich varnish of external 
accomplishments, and show her real character to the world 
and to history. 

Mary and the reigning pontiff had entered into a family 
compact for the extermination of the Protestant heresy. 
It became then the question whether Knox should yield 
to her fascination or maintain his position for the honor 
and the perpetuation of the church of Christ. Failing to 
fascinate, she attempted to entangle and crush ; but, 
under the influence of Darnley, then of Bothwell. then of 
her jailer Elizabeth, her career of brilliancy and light 



564 Young People's History of Protestafitism. 

darkened down from the glory of a Parisian court to dis- 
honor and thwarted craft, until death ended her strange, 
eventful histor3 T . 

The old movement under "Wycliffe and the Lollards had 
reached certain portions of the country, but the traces of 
these had well nigh vanished. Patrick Hamilton had 
visited Wittenberg and become a disciple of Luther. But 
on returning to Scotland he was deco}'ed into a confer- 
ence, where he was arrested, and in 1528 burned, at the 
time when Knox was about twenty-three } T ears of age. 
Hamilton was but twenty-four. The stake of this heroic 
sufferer roused the people of Scotland far more than the 
burning cross speeding through the hills in the hands of 
the clansmen. Multitudes became interested in that for 
which he died. Some fled to the continent ; others were 
martyred. Sentence was passed against Knox as a here- 
tic, but he escaped to the continent. Degraded from the 
priesthood, assassins were emphtyed to waylay and kill 
him. 

It was thought that Knox should be called into the 
ministry of what was termed the " recovered gospel." 
For many da}'s he was sad and burdened ; but finally 
acceded to the call of a congregation which demanded 
that he preach to them. His powers as a logician and 
debater were earl}' called into use. Challenged to public 
debate, he accepted eveiw opportunity to meet the emis- 
saries of the pope. The}< were silenced at his masterly 
conclusions. The church grew by rapid renunciations of 
Romanism. 

A French fleet came into the Castle of St. Andrew's, to 
which he had returned to preach. Knox, among the 
prisoners, was placed in the galleys, and kept afloat along 
the coast of France. Confinement and severity shook the 
health of the great reformer, until at last he was reduced 



Knox on the Salic Laws. 565 

by fever to such extent that he was released, and returned 
once more to Scotland. On the declaration of peace 
between France, Scotland, and England, he obtained full 
liberty, and awaited the development of the Reformation. 
Visiting England, Knox was appointed one of the chap- 
lains of Edward VI. It is thought that he had an influ- 
ence in removing from the Common Prayer Book some 
features involving adoration of the elements in the Lord's 
supper. Knox soon left London, preaching in other 
parts of England, and was every where followed by large 
congregations. 

The policy of Man-, the successor of Edward VI. , was 
soon disclosed. Knox left England for France. He 
repaired to Geneva, and formed the acquaintance, win- 
ning the friendship, of Calvin. Knox was early in de- 
nouncing the marriage of Mary and Philip of Spain. It 
was not long before the reformer visited his native land ; 
but on the appearance of fresh troubles returned to 
Geneva. From this point he issued his blast of the 
trumpet against the " monstrous regiment of women," occa- 
sioned by the terrible and bloocly swa} T of Mary in Eng- 
land, then at its height. Knox desired that the French 
Salic law should be made a universal rule. It was unfor- 
tunate for Knox that this work gave great offence to 
Elizabeth, Mary's successor, which volume of the Scot- 
tish teacher's she regarded as grave and unpardonable. 

On the ascent of Elizabeth to the throne, Knox returned 
to Scotland. Man}' attempted to dissuade his appearing ; 
but he replied that none need be solicitous on his account ; 
he craved no defence ; he only asked an audience. The 
magistrates and the people were ready to establish the 
reformed worship. And the billow of this movement 
swept on through other cities ; while monastic edifices, 
images, and pictures, went down before the fierce on- 



j66 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

slaught of the awakened people. The Protestants of 
Edinburgh chose Knox for their preacher. This congre- 
gation became a power. Queen Mary of Scotland re- 
turned, firm in the purpose of restoring the Romish faith. 
She sent for Knox, and had an earnest conference, at 
first calm and even flattering. At this moment the mas- 
sacre of Vass % y m France excited great agitation in the 
Protestant nations ; but, in the very height of the sensa- 
tion, Maiy gave a splendid ball. The discourse of Knox 
on the following Sabbath was understood to sharply criti- 
cise the vices and pleasures of princes. He was called 
to her council chamber, but his replies were grave, firm, 
and decorous. Her attendants, on seeing him quiet, 
exclaimed, "He is not afraid." To which he replied, 
" Why should the fair face of a gentle woman affright 
me? I have looked at man}- angr}- men, and have not 
been extravagant^ alarmed." Knox opposed her mar- 
riage with Darnley. Again she summoned him to her 
presence. Bursting into a flood of tears, she vowed she 
would be avenged. Knox protested his distress to see 
her majesty in tears ; but the sorrow he must bear, rather 
than betray his conscience and the commonwealth by 
guilty silence. Again she cited him for a letter on pub- 
lic affairs. He had been charged with treason by the 
prrvy council. His friends advised retraction and sub- 
mission. But Knox was undaunted ; and the privy 
council found his defence unassailable. 

Now followed the murder of Rizzio. Knox regarded it 
as God's judgment. The subsequent death of Darnley, 
the flight of Bothwell, the surrender and imprisonment of 
Mary, were rapid descents along the downward course of 
the beautiful and accomplished, but guilt}', Queen of 
Scotland. Knox did not hesitate to pronounce her 
guilty of the double crime of adultery and murder, and 



Death of Knox. 56Q 

claimed that death was the penalty of each, and espe- 
cially in this case by the coalescence of the crimes, enhanc- 
ing and envenoming each other. News of the terrible 
massacre of St. Bartholomew reached Scotland. The 
French ambassador was present when Knox appeared in 
the pulpit. Gathering the remainder of his strength, 
Knox denounced the vengeance of Heaven against the 
murderer and traitor, the King of France, and bade the 
ambassador tell his ro} T al master that divine vengeance 
would never quit him nor his house. 

On his death-bed, Knox asked his wife to read to him 
the loth chapter of First Corinthians, the magnificent 
description of the resurrection, and, commending his soul, 
his spirit, .and body into the hands of the Lord, he 
repeated, with a sigh, " Now it is come." The regent of 
Scotland, standing by his grave, uttered over him the 
words, " There lies he who never feared the face of man." 

Scotland, in her after history, has been his best vindi- 
cation, his only monument. The schools which have dif- 
fused education throughout the land were his work ; and, 
amidst thrift, integrity, and diligence, the glory of the 
Scottish people has been their moral, spiritual, mercan- 
tile, and martial character. The land has been enriched 
by the genius of Adam Smith, Sir William Hamilton, 
Burns, and Walter Scott, of Campbell, John Wilson, 
Thomas Chalmers, and Guthrie. Her scholars and her 
lawyers have been effective contributors to the thought 
and glory of the world. 

Later on in the history of Scotland, strong and deter- 
mined effort was made to re-establish Popery, and to 
rebuild the power and the force of the Romish church. 
The old St. Giles, where Knox lifted high the red-cross 
banner, and sent the light of his sturdy soul to the top of 
the heather hills of Scotland, still seems to echo the strain 



570 Young People's History of Protestantism. 

of the lofty, the sustained eloquence with which the great 
Reformer denounced, exhorted, and warned his hearers, 
with such fervor, sa3's Melvil, that " he was likely to 
ding the pulpit in blads and flee out of it." 

It was here that the second Reformation received a 
mighty impulse from the choleric fish- wife, Jenny Geddes, 
who had brought her stool with her to church. A bishop 
asked the dean to read the collect for the da\ T , when 
Jenny cried out, " Calic, said 3 T e? The de'il calic the 
wame o' ye " ; and she sent her stool flying at the bishop's 
head. The stool rests from its labors now in the National 
Museum. 

It is with regret that we thus abruptly and almost 
rudely close this volume, incomplete by the veiy necessi- 
ties of space and time ; incomplete, also, by the fragmen- 
tary and unsatisfactory way in which, in the midst of 
cares, perplexities, and pains innumerable, the author has 
completed the work ; incomplete in that the great lessons 
which he would have gladly drawn from the consideration 
of these mighty and far-reaching facts must be left uncon- 
sidered. But we hope that those who read will have seen 
the bearing of the great points, and will for themselves 
weigh carefully and judiciously the interests of the Protes- 
tant church, and accept its teaching, not alone for the 
blood which it has shed, and the martyrdoms which it has 
sustained, but for the spirit of peace and of purity which 
it is breathing throughout the world. 



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